


Manor of Conception

by psiphifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Class Differences, Dark Magic, Dark Mark, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Horcrux Hunting, Horcruxes, Imperius, Imperiused Sex, Legilimency, Occlumency, POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy Kink, Punishment, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Magic, Shame, Shower Sex, Slow Romance, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiphifan/pseuds/psiphifan
Summary: For not identifying Harry, Ron and Hermione at the manor when they are kidnapped by snatchers, Malfoy must serve his punishment in the strangest of ways. This shame will forever haunt him and the Malfoy name forever. The new relationship that develops is not what anyone expects, however.WARNING: Detailed depiction of rape in the second chapter. Please do not read if this bothers you. You have been warned (I hate to say it, but it's been categorized as such.)





	1. The Punishment

Walking down the stairs to the drawing room in Malfoy Manor felt like walking to the gallows for Draco Malfoy. It was bad enough to have been forced to join the Death Eaters by his father, but now he had to associate his home with the Dark Lord. He shivered as he pushed open the double doors.

“Ah, young Draco,” the Dark Lord purred. “So nice of you to join us.” His inhuman face studied the seventeen-year-old, lips giving the trademarked Malfoy smirk a run for its money. Draco forced himself to his knees in front of his leader who was standing in front of the blazing fireplace, bare feet on the marble floor.

Draco eyed Nagini who had been sleeping until his arrival. She unfurled her body from her coil and appeared to study him from her prized place near the hearth. His stomach lurched at the thought of what was going to happen. He’d seen it many times by now.

“I hear you failed, yet again, on something very crucial. I do hope it wasn’t an act of disloyalty. Hmmm?” The bare feet padded their way towards him. Draco couldn’t look up into that vile face, he couldn’t.

He continued to hang his head, staring at the yellow nails on the Dark Lord’s feet, hoping he wouldn’t make him kiss them…. But that was the least of his worries, really. He would gladly lick those pale feet to escape a punishment that was much worse. Draco tasted bile on his tongue.

“Tisk, tisk, Draco. What will we do with you now?” The door opened behind him. His stomach clenched.

Draco thought over the last twenty-four hours. No matter how much he’d hated Potter, Weasley, and Granger at Hogwarts, he couldn’t identify them for the Dark Lord to be called. He didn’t want to make a mistake, and he didn’t want them to die, really, but he’d ended up failing anyway. It was all he knew how to do by now. Seeing Granger tortured by his aunt had haunted his dreams, or rather nightmares. At least they’d gotten away and now he had to make his peace with Death himself.

“Draco, turn around and say hello to our guest,” the Dark Lord instructed.

Still on his knees, the marble making his joints throb, he turned around to see her. How had she not escaped with the others? Draco tried to tone down his wide eyes to a glare. Hermione Granger seemed barely lucid in the arms of Crabbe and Goyle, his childhood friends' fathers). They had her by the elbows, the rest of her body limp and hanging to the floor. Her jeans were ripped, cuts on her face, twigs in her unruly hair, and blood had soaked through the sleeve of her hoodie on her forearm where Draco knew the word “Mudblood” would forever be scarred.

A word he’d used against her, countless times, one that had gotten him punched in the nose during third year. The slur tasted bitter on his tongue, even just thinking it. That word, that idea had lead to all of this misery and he hated it. His jaw was clenched so hard he thought he’d break all his teeth.

The Dark Lord walked around him, stepping lightly as though the marble would give way at any moment. “Ah yes, it’s your mudblood classmate, Draco. Bella even marked her as so, how clever!” he said wondrously. He didn’t touch her, though; he couldn’t touch someone with dirty blood running down her arm without risking contamination. Draco took solace in that, at least.

“Since you have failed,” the snake-like leader continued. “So many times, Draco. It would be too much of a mercy for your family to kill you.” The Dark Lord took the boy’s chin in his clammy hand. “As punishment, you will be locked in your quarters.” Draco fought rolling his eyes -- he was already confined to his quarters unless called upon. “The mudblood here -- what was her name, Draco?”

“Granger,” he managed to grit out.

“She will be locked in the dungeons, however,” the Dark Lord’s eerie smile unnerved him. “We have given her this portkey bracelet…” Crabbe held up her clean arm where a gold bracelet shown in the firelight. “To transport her to your room for one hour each day after which she will be transported back to her cell.” Panic was welling up in Draco as he spoke.

“Now I’m sure you’re wondering why this filthy mudblood will be having an hour’s audience with you each day.” Draco wondered if the other Death Eaters could hear his teeth grinding. “Your punishment is that you are to rape her during this time, making sure you fill her with your seed, until she is heavy with your spawn.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! This was not happening. He couldn’t do this… He’d rather be dead! His father would kill him if it wasn’t against the Dark Lord’s wishes. No, this was sadistic, cruel, disgusting, and embarrassing. The half-blood child would be a reminder to the Malfoys of their failures. This was mental and emotional torture. As long as the Dark Lord was alive, no harm could come to the child. Not to mention Granger’s own involuntary role in all of this. She would never consent and it would always be rape.

“I have put a special curse on your mudblood, Draco. One that will tell me if you have filled her with your seed each day.” Draco blanched even further if that were possible. “You can only imagine what your punishment will be if you fail at this,” the Dark Lord hissed. “Now get up! And leave my sight!”

Draco felt completely numb, his legs felt like jelly, his head was swimming. When he managed to get to his room, he ran to the bathroom and started the shower. It was cold, but he didn’t care. He needed to get the sensation of Voldemort’s slimy hand off him. Scrubbing every bit of skin, he wished he could erase the words from his mind. His current task or punishment was worse than having to kill Dumbledore, worse than identifying his classmates.

He would never rape a woman. Never. All the sex he’d had was completely consensual and completely pleasurable for his partner -- mostly the daft Slytherin girls who practically begged him to sleep with them. But Granger? Sure, he had admitted to himself once or twice that she’d come a long way from first year. She had a shapely figure debuted at the Yule Ball, but he wouldn’t have slept with her. She wouldn’t have wanted him anyway after how he’d treated her and now, having no choice….

Drying himself off, he thought, Maybe he could knock her out? He didn’t have a wand, but he had a trophy or two he could hit her over the head with. The prospect of having sex with her unconscious, like a dead body, unresponsive, though, made him want to vomit. Part of the enjoyment of sex was seeing, feeling, and hearing the pleasure of his partner. Her moans, her legs wrapping around him, her nails scratching down his back, her hips meeting his… Fuck! Was he getting aroused? Not about Granger, surely, but the need to have a woman who wanted him back. How long had it been? Six months? He was a teenager for Salazar’s sake!

Perhaps he could use his imagination, then? Get himself hard, close his eyes, and pretend she was enjoying it? Draco shook his head and his erection deflated. Maybe he should take the punishment of refusing this task? His stomach turned at the thought of what could be worse...

Towel around his waist, Draco went to his bookshelf to find something to read, anything to get his mind off the horror of his life. A small popping noise sounded behind him. Whirling around, he saw her.

Amazingly, the Death Eaters had cleaned her up a bit. As she sat still bound and gagged on his floor, Draco noticed that her hair had been brushed, her cuts healed and bandaged, her dirty clothes changed into a white nightdress, and slippers on her feet. She was awake now, though. Her brown eyes sunken in with fear and stress held a look of horror and disappointment. Of course, everyone was disappointed in Draco Malfoy.

Hermione was trying to say something through her gag. Against his better judgment, he removed it so she could speak.

“Thank you,” she spat. “Can you please untie me, too?” Hermione was still scowling at him and struggling with her binds.

“And have my eyes scratched out? No thank you.” Draco folded his arms and resumed an air of haughtiness.

That tongue of hers, ever so razor sharp, said, “That’s the least of your worries, Malfoy.”

His anger erupted at that. “Oh yeah? You think? Did they even tell you what you’re doing here?” Draco snarled, looming over her. Her eyes went wide as his towel slipped.

“I assume they wanted me to torture you with my muggle-born presence. Or have you torture me, either way.” Hermione shrugged.

He shook his head. “I’m being punished. My family is being punished for my refusal to identify you, Potter, and the Weasel. They-they want me to-to--” He couldn’t say it! His nails cut into his palms until his fists were sure to bleed.

His gray eyes found hers again. “I can’t do this…” he mumbled, leaning against one of the posts of his bed. Tears spilled from his eyes. Draco didn’t even care that he was crying in front of her. They were both fucked.

She studied him. “They probably don’t want you to kill me since they know you’ll fail that.” He couldn’t even be mad that she’d said that of all things. “You don’t have a wand, so you’d have to do anything with another tool or your bare hands. They probably want me alive for information, so what could you do....” Hermione’s eyes widened so she looked like a rag doll.

“Of course,” she scoffed angrily as tears threatened to fall. “You wouldn’t want to touch me and my muggle-born body even if it is to hurt me. That’s all that’s left that you can hurt me with. You’ve taken my pride, my wand, and now my dignity.” Hermione spat the last syllable at him.

Draco cringed. “I don’t--”

“What happens if you don’t?” she interrupted.

“He’ll know. He put some kind of spell on you that will check for the presence of my semen in-inside you. Then he’ll punish me with something worse, though I can’t imagine what that would be.” Draco dropped his head into his hands, but he could almost hear the wheels and cogs in Hermione’s brain turning.

“Well, since they haven’t killed me yet, I can only imagine that they wouldn’t do so when you fail.” She shrugged.

“You don’t know what they’re capable of… You haven’t even seen the worst of it, Granger.”

“Ha! Forcing you to rape and impregnate me to shame me and your family is just about as bad as it gets,” she snarled.

Draco chuckled sardonically. “Really? You hate me more than Voldemort himself? What about Fenrir Greyback? Would you rather he rape you and then turn you into a werewolf? Or maybe you’d like one of the other Death Eaters… perhaps one who likes anal?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “That’s what I thought, Granger.”

“None of them would touch me unless the Dark Lord ordered them. They wouldn’t touch a -- what did you used to call me? Filthy little mudblood? -- unless they’d fallen out of favor, which you clearly have. You’re even failing at being evil, Malfoy, something you were born into. How does that feel? How does it feel to be powerless in your own pure-blooded circle? At least I’m still a strong witch, muggle-born or not!”

Draco’s smirk slipped away and he snapped. His hands were pressed over her mouth in seconds. “I knew I should have left you gagged. You know what, Hermione? I may have failed my lot, but you failed all your friends by getting caught. Don’t play that high and mighty game with me because we’re in the same position right now.”

Anger furrowed her brow and then he blanched as he felt her tongue lick the palm covering her mouth. Draco reeled back in disgust. Hermione smirked at him.

“See, you can’t even bear the thought of being that close to me… I bet you couldn’t even get hard, even if the power you’d had over me did turn on your twisted soul,” she taunted.

“You may think you know everything, but you don’t know me, Granger. Don’t presume to know what goes on in my mind because all I’m thinking about right now is how much I don’t want to rape you. Not because of your blood, not because of the shame on my family, not because I’m a coward, but because sex is meant to be consensual. I’ve never forced myself on anyone. I want to enjoy it, I want my partner to enjoy it. I want a bird screaming in pleasure not pain… the prospect of forcing myself on a woman makes me want to vomit.”

Hermione’s eyebrows went straight up. “Are you…” she gulped. “Are you saying... that if I wanted you to, you’d fuck me?”

A lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t confirm or deny what she’d said. He didn’t want to give her that power over him.

“Are you saying you want me to?” he challenged in disbelief. They stared at each other for a solid minute, silver against gold.

And then, she disappeared.

They’d run out of time and Draco was once again completely and utterly fucked. 


	2. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is punished for (yet again) not completing the Dark Lord's task. Afterwards, all he and Hermione can do is heal together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Detailed depiction of rape in the THIS chapter as well as Imperiused sex (basically meaning it is non-con for both parties involved - you will see what I mean). Please do not read if this bothers you. You have been warned (I hate to say it, but it's been categorized as such.)

He might as well kill himself now and save himself the excruciating pain and torture that would be inflicted on him. Part of the torture would be waiting for them to summon him.

He might as well knock himself out and just wait. He’d never be able to sleep. The insomnia was slowly killing him as it was. His mother would be devastated if anything happened to him. The Dark Lord knew that. The Malfoy line would then cease to exist and Lucius would be devastated at that prospect, not the fact that his only son, who he was supposed to love had died, but because his sole heir had.

Draco punched the bedpost, treating it like a punching bag, convincing himself that this was only the beginning of the pain he’d have to endure.

His hand throbbed as he paced back and forth across the length of the room until his legs grew tired -- it had to have been a couple hours since Hermione had vanished. There was nothing he could do now but pace and wait.

Draco must have collapsed onto the bed and passed out from exhaustion at some point because all of the sudden he was waking up to being dragged off it and landing heavily on the floor. He cried out as his wounded hand got crushed between his chest and the floor as he was dragged through the door and down the hallways and even the stairs until reaching the dreaded drawing room.

His entire body had to be bruised as he landed in front of the Dark Lord. Draco struggled to his knees. He felt like he was going to pass out or piss himself or both.

“So, young Draco,” the Dark Lord hissed playfully. “I see you’ve failed to fill the witch with your seed. Is it her blood? Can you not bring yourself to touch her? I understand, Draco.” The cooing in his leader’s voice made him cringe. “Bring her here.”

Draco’s head whipped around to see the re-gagged and still-bound Hermione being dragged toward him. The Dark Lord smirked and vanished her nightgown. A few of the Death Eaters hooted and hollered nasty remarks as Voldemort turned back to Draco with his wand pointed at him.

“A little coercion will make you touch her, I’m sure. _Imperio_!” Draco choked as the spell took hold of him, like slipping into a glove that fit his entire body. It was tight and restrictive, but all he could do was watch internally as Voldemort took over his body.

He was the Dark Lord’s puppet now and he was going to be punished. Hermione lay sprawled out and bare in front of him, whimpering. Unbidden, at the sight of her naked body -- her ample bosom with pert pink nipples, her tapered waist, rounded hips and buttocks, and long legs -- his cock began to twitch. Draco could hear Voldemort’s glee echoing in his head.

No longer in control, his hands started to unbuckle his trousers and took his satin boxers along with them. The drawing room was filled with more taunts and whistling at his exposed, half-mast cock. He had a straight, fairly thick, and long cock -- just shorter than his childhood wand, which was 10 inches. He saw Hermione’s eyes bulge at the sight of him approaching her with his hand stroking his now fully erect member.

Internally, he tried not to moan at the feeling of his cock being stroked. His own hand felt foreign with Voldemort at the helm. Letting go of his cock as he was standing over her, his hand wrapped in her curly hair and wrenched it so she was forced to turn onto her stomach, her screams of pain muffled by the gag.

With a room full of Death Eaters, she couldn’t go anywhere, so she stayed still for her inevitable rape. Both hands shot out and grabbed her hips and brought her buttocks high towards his swaying cock. Her shaking arms propped herself up, but one of his hands pushed her head down towards the floor so she was on her forearms. Draco tried to block out the jeering and remove himself from the situation, but he couldn’t.

The Dark Lord was too strong. He couldn’t fight him. Even Occlumency couldn’t protect against the Imperius curse. Draco felt a surge of precum, his balls tightening, as he saw her ass presented to him and her pussy lips spread open beautifully. She’s like a flower, he thought.

And then, he was forcefully entering her to the hilt. He could hear her screams and saw her body shaking. He sincerely hoped she wasn’t a virgin, but he’d definitely hurt her either way. She was tight but not wet at the large intrusion. Draco wanted to just ejaculate then and there, he wanted to get it over with as to not hurt her more, plus she was so bloody tight that he could have came in a heartbeat.

But no, the sick bastard controlling him wouldn't let him come. Fuck! Draco saw and felt his cock slide out of her until just the tip sat within her now reddened pussy lips and then slammed back into her with all his might until he felt his tip being jarred against her cervix. At least he couldn’t see her sobbing with pain.

He slammed into her again and again and again, now having to hold her hips up as she’d gone limp. Although, her body had responded with a little moisture to assist him. As he rutted into her like a dog in heat, Draco tried to think about if this were consensual. After all, she’d implied that she might be willing to have sex with him before she’d disappeared.

Finally, he was able to come, pumping all his seed into her, grunting loudly. Seed she didn’t want for a baby neither of them wanted. An unwanted child amidst a war. If she conceived after this, then his torture would be over… wouldn’t it? Draco didn’t know what would happen then. He didn’t think he could face her after this.

Once his hands let go of her hips, Hermione collapsed to the floor, unconscious, his seed dripping down her thighs. It was obscene. The curse lifted and Draco fell to his knees, completely drained.

“You look like you may have enjoyed that, boy,” the Dark Lord commented and a few jeers went up among the Death Eaters.

His face reddened in shame and he fought the urge to argue. He was too tired anyway. Before Draco knew it, he was hauled into his room again. He didn’t know how long he laid on the floor with his cheek pressed into the rug. He’d been violated and he’d violated Hermione during his own violation. His head was spinning.

The bile rose in his throat and he threw up and then rolled away from it. A knock at the door meant it was meal time. Whoever it was strode in, placed the tray lightly on his desk, saw him on the floor and said _'scourgify_  'to clean up the puke. He thanked them in his mind and passed out.

Draco woke up to someone poking his ribs. He groaned and opened his eyes. It was a toe poking him and that toe belonged to Hermione who was still bound and gagged, now in a different nightgown. He sat up feeling weak and disoriented. Without a word, he removed her gag and binds.

“Draco…” she started and bit her lip. “I’m sorry…”

His head snapped towards her. “You’re sorry?!” he croaked. “You’re sorry for what? For me? I did this to myself. I couldn’t--”

“Don’t be like that,” she reprimanded. “It wasn’t your fault for being a good guy and not raping me. I just hate that it had to be… that way. I don’t know what the Imperius curse feels like but… it couldn’t have been pleasant, not with Voldemort.”

Draco cringed at the name on her lips, shrinking away from her. She leaned over him. “I was wrong about you, Draco.” He glanced up at his first name. “You were trying to do the right thing, but in your world, Voldemort’s world, it’s the wrong thing. You’re not that cruel, at least not anymore,” Hermione explained softly, her hand coming up to cup his jaw.

Draco didn’t know what to do. He’d just raped her, perhaps hours ago, and she was being understanding? She was touching him, leaning over him. With some anxiety, he realized again why she was in his bedroom. The Dark Lord expected him to rape her again.

He scrambled away to her confused stare. “I can’t do it again, Granger.”

“It’s not so bad,” she said. His eyes shot to her in astonishment. “They could have made you rape me in front of everyone every time. Then we wouldn’t have the choice to talk or…”

“Or what?” he snapped.

Hermione bit her lip. It was a rather becoming look on her, he thought. “Moan,” she finished.

“What?” Draco felt like the air was knocked from his lungs.

She seemed nervous now despite the confidence in her solution before. Her cheeks were flushed as she struggled to explain. “Well, I mean, you know, it doesn’t have to be, erm, violent if we, you know, work together for it to be p-pleasurable to both of us…” She flinched as she waited for his reaction.

His mouth went dry and his mind raced. After everything she’d just been through, she was willing to work with him, have sex with him voluntarily? He remembered how supple her curves were, the feeling of the warm flesh under his fingers...

“Umm… Malfoy?” she interrupted his thoughts and nodded at his crotch. Sure enough, a bulge was forming, pressing against his zipper. His jaw dropped. “Does that mean you want to….”

“No, fuck, no! I-I was… oh bugger, fine!” he bit out through clenched teeth. “I hate to admit when you’re right, you know that!”

A small smile crept across her face as she stepped towards him. “Let’s get going! We probably only have a half hour now. It took a while to wake you up.”

“I should have known you’d be a bossy bint in bed, Granger!” he muttered as he stepped closer to her.

Suddenly, they were pressed together, supporting each other. Draco never realized how small she was before: at least a head shorter than him and her wrists were dainty. He could feel her breasts through the thin nightgown.

“How about we move this to the bed, since we can barely stand?” She nodded.

Hermione laid down and he sat to her right. “Are you just going to stare at me, Malfoy?”

“Forgive me for not quite knowing how to bed someone I unwillingly raped recently!” he growled unkindly. She glared at him, but lifted the gown over her head to move things along.

If he was only half erect before, he was sure he’d never been harder in his life now that she lay bare and willing before him.

“Fuck…” was all he could manage as his eyes roamed her body again, this time without the fog of the controlling curse. He bet her breasts would fit in his large palms perfectly, he followed the feminine dip of her waist, he ignored her ribs showing, and the flare of her hips to a patch of curly hair between her long legs. Where had she been hiding those? Under her robes?

He let the natural course of his attraction to her body guide him as he scooted closer to her. His hand reached for her and saw her flinch for a second, but she controlled herself as he ran his fingers down the long curve of her neck. Searching her eyes, Draco lowered his lips to her collarbone, pressing kisses along it and up her neck. He smiled against her skin as she sighed into his touch.

Her hands roamed his torso, mostly skin and bone from wasting away from the stress of the war, as he continued up to her ear. “Granger,” he breathed into her ear, licking the lobe. She answered in a breathy whimper. “Why did you hide this beautiful body of yours for so long?” Hermione turned to look at him in shock.

Recovering, but still blushing, she said, “I don’t think we have enough time to get into that.” He smirked at her.

“Always right, Granger.” She gasped as he took a nipple in his mouth and stroked the bud with his tongue. He plucked at the other gently with his hand. Her back arched into him, his cock brushing against her soft thigh.

Hermione Granger was moaning and mewling under Draco Malfoy’s hands and mouth. This was not what anyone, especially the Dark Lord, had expected or wanted, but here they were.

Draco snuck a hand down to her thighs, parting her folds and easing a long finger inside her. She hissed a little bit and he froze. At least she was slick from his ministrations, but he guessed that she was raw from before. He withdrew his finger and settled on tracing her puckering pussy lips instead.

Luckily, she was getting wetter by the second as he suckled her other breast. Her hips were rocking into his hand, her wetness making the simulation on her clit more pleasurable. Her nails started digging into his shoulder blades. He thought he heard her whisper something like, “more.”

“Are you ready, Granger?” Draco murmured and glanced up into her half-lidded eyes.

She whispered, “Yes… but be gentle, please.”

He stripped his shirt, trousers and pants off and straddled her legs. Hermione’s eyes widened again at the size of his cock. He stroked it a couple times as he lined up with her pussy lips.

“The-the rumors were true,” she whispered as he teased her nether lips open with the head dripping precum.

“Yes, Granger, they were… And I’m sorry you couldn’t experience it for the first time when you were prepared.” Draco nudged himself slowly inside her tight walls, knowing that his girth didn’t help the rawness inside of her. He felt her entire body tense up as he entered her millimeter by millimeter.

“Are you okay?” She nodded, her nails digging into his biceps.

She was strangling his cock and he almost came when she started panting. “Merlin, I wasn’t your first, right?” he gritted out.

She glared at him for a second but gasped when he bottomed out within her. “N-no,” Hermione stammered. “Fuck, you’re huge, Malfoy!”

“If you keep swearing like that, love, I’ll cum right now!” Draco said, trying to still himself so she could get used to his size. Her warm womb was gripping him deliciously, her muscles expanding and clenching.

It was her turn to smirk, “I thought that was the point!” She shifted her hips beneath him and pulled a groan from him.

“Can I move, Hermione?” he’d used her first name, the syllables foreign on his tongue. She nodded, but she looked like she was hesitating. “I promise, I’ll try to make you feel as good as you can considering…”

Draco started moving slowly. Every time he bumped her cervix with the head of his cock, Hermione, to his delight, started chanting, “Oh fuck… oh fuck!” with every gentle thrust he gave her. Draco could tell it was a good kind of “oh fuck” as her walls were fluttering around his cock. Reaching down between them, he strummed her clitoris.

Then she screamed as her orgasm shattered her, her head digging into the headboard, her back arching into him. Her nipples scraped against his chest, drawing her orgasm out as her pussy creamed around him. He shuddered to feel her cum dripping onto his balls.

“That was the point, pet... to make you scream,” he growled against her neck, his teeth coming out to nip her. Removing his hand, she wrapped her legs around him as he ground their pelvises together so that he was hitting her clit once again. He roared as her second orgasm overtook her and her pussy milked him dry.

Hermione’s hands continued to clutch his head to her breast like a lifeline as he collapsed on top of her, still deep inside her as he started to soften. Their sweat started to dry as he peeled himself off her and reluctantly slipped out of her. A wave of pleasure came unbidden at the sight of his cum leaking down her thighs, her own cum mingling with his and soaking a spot into the bedsheets.

Their breathing was still labored as they lay side by side. He closed his eyes, still unable to say anything to her until he cleared his head. His eyes opened after she made a small squeak and she was gone. Their hour was up and they’d made it just barely in time. And yet, he wanted more of her. Perhaps, in her absence, Draco could make sense of what just happened.

Draco Malfoy shagged the living daylights out of Hermione Granger and she came twice around him! And he couldn’t wait to do that again… Laughter bubbled up from deep inside him. _So much for a punishment, Voldy!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this was a bit much for you out there. I'm not sure why this came to my mind... There are some dark themes, especially those from Draco.


	3. Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is quickly invading Draco's dreams and fantasies. (It's slightly kinky)

He felt so alone after she left and he laid in the same spot still, not wanting to move. Draco could still smell her, her musky arousal still on the sheets, on his fingers… Smiling wickedly, he sucked on his finger that had been inside her, moaning at her taste. It was like salted caramel and it made his mouth water for more.

He hoped she forgave him for hurting her, this time and the first.

After all, this was the only thing he had, that one hour with her. He didn’t see his parents -- not that he wanted to. He couldn’t see his friends who’d gone back to Hogwarts. Hermione was his tether to sanity, to pleasure, to the light in the world that might forgive him for forsaking it one day. After all, he couldn’t disappoint his parents more than he’d already done… so fuck them! Or rather he’d fuck the hell out of Hermione Granger.

Somehow, he felt himself respond to the mere thought of seeing her again tomorrow even though his balls felt sated from his blissful release. Then, Draco thought of her returning to her cell naked, his cum spilling out of her onto the stone floor. Anger spiked within him when he thought of the guards seeing her unclothed. They had no right to see her naked! Taking a deep breath, he tamped down his possessiveness before he did something stupid like break out to go see her.

Draco Malfoy hated to not be in control. With the Dark Lord using him as a puppet, he'd been the most fearful he'd ever been in his life. Strangely enough, he never felt like he was in control enough. At Hogwarts, he’d had Crabbe and Goyle to boss around, the Gryffindor Trio to taunt, and his pick of willing girls to sleep with, but he could never best Granger in classes and once the Dark Lord returned he was locked up and kept under guard.

He wanted to punch something, strangle someone -- maybe the guard outside? He wanted his wand. Draco Malfoy wanted Hermione Granger back so at least he could have some human contact. Even though she’d sated him, he felt more energized than he had since he'd fled Hogwarts.

His pacing wasn’t enough, not with all this energy flowing through him. The room wasn’t big enough for him to extend his long legs more than three paces before hitting the window or the door. What Draco wouldn’t give to have his broom and the freedom to ride it. He hadn’t played Quidditch in months. He was in poor shape as it was now that he barely ate or slept. That gave him an idea.

Dropping to his knees, he extended his arms with his hands under his shoulders, lifted his hips and legs so that he was in position for push-ups. If he couldn’t train, he might as well exercise the muggle way. He felt the muscles in his back burn almost instantly and his biceps started to shake -- he really was in poor form! Then, he started some walking lunges across the length of the room, his thighs burning deliciously.

Grabbing onto the molding above the doorway to his bathroom, he performed some pull-ups, completing about ten before exhaustion overtook him. Draco crawled into his bed, still inhaling the evidence of sex and falling asleep to its headiness.

He was having a wonderful wet dream when he started to wake up: Hermione had come again and she was stroking his cock up and down in her small hand. Her finger swirled around the precum on the head, rubbing it over the glans. Then her little pink tongue snuck out to taste him! She looked up at him, her brown eyes blown wide with curiosity, and then she took the head of him into her mouth, her hand pumping the length of him still while her wet mouth, the one she’d always use to bite an insult or witty remark back at him, sucked around him. Fuck, it was marvelous!

His eyes adjusted to the dark room to find that his wet dream wasn’t a dream at all. Hermione Granger gave the head of his cock one last suck, her cheeks hollowed out and released his engorged member with an obscene popping sound from her mouth.

Draco Malfoy’s eyes flashed as she smirked at him. He sat up and captured her mouth, grabbing her hips and bringing her to straddle him as he lay back again, kissing her. Now, the head of his cock, slippery from her mouth, slid against her pussy, nestling in between her folds. She’d hiked up her nightdress, a pink one this time -- where were they getting these garments? -- and sat back onto him, taking his length into her an inch at a time. Hermione panted into his mouth, grinding her clit and mons into his pelvis, his sword buried inside her velvet sheath.

He lifted the dress over her head so he could pay homage to her breasts, her nipples already budding for his voracious mouth. As Draco sat up, she mewled at the sensation of his large cock pushing deeper inside her, pressed firmly against her cervix. Swirling her hips, she expertly dragged a deep moan from his lips now sucking on her nipple. “Fuck,” he breathed as his hips met hers, his length pounding up and into her, sending her spiraling into an orgasm.

Her short nails pressed crescent moons into his shoulders, which felt sore from his workout last night. Hissing at the pain, he almost lost it when her nails scraped down his arms, his hips automatically bucking into her at the sensation. Using his abdominals and shifting his legs underneath him, Draco tipped Hermione onto her back so he could pound her mercilessly. He pressed her knees toward her chest and opened her up more. At this point, the Gryffindor was wailing in pleasure, so close to another release.   
“Draco… Harder... I’m so close!” she gasped as he obliged immediately. When he felt her muscles clench like a vice around his girth, he slammed back into her as close to her cervix as possible and lodged himself there to shoot his seed deep within her, hoping that one of his swimmers would find her egg.

Instead of rolling off her, he stayed inside her womb and tipped them onto their sides facing one another. Her eyes were still shut, breathing still labored, and it made Draco smile. He didn’t know when the last time he’d smiled was, but the gesture felt rusty. Her eyes opened to find his smile, which she couldn’t help but mirror.

“That was a helluva way to wake a bloke up, love,” he said huskily. “I thought I was dreaming.”

Hermione blushed. “I thought you’d might like it. Plus, I wanted us to get that out of the way so we could talk afterward.” Now he frowned. “That’s not how I meant it, Draco,” she chastised. “We didn’t get to say anything last time.”

Draco nodded. “Did you have something to say, then?”

“I wanted to say thank you, for making this pleasurable.”

He smirked. “Tell that to the claw marks you gave me,” he taunted. Hermione blushed and looked ashamed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“Not complaining, love. I like a little pain with my pleasure.” Her eyes widened. “Trust me, not like you’re thinking. I wouldn’t have wanted to… you know.”

She nodded, tears starting to form. He didn’t think anything he could say would make her stop crying, so he held her, his softened cock still inside her, his leg draped over hers. Hermione sobbed into his shoulder as he pressed kisses into her messy hair.

“Would it comfort you to say I don’t want you to leave?” he whispered. She pulled back to look at him, her eyes puffy and tear-stained.

“There’s nothing we can do about that, though,” she sniffled.

“I know,” Draco said, wincing at the cruelty of it. The Dark Lord was still torturing him unintentionally.

“What--what happens if I don’t… you know,” Hermione said meekly, unable to meet his eye. His hand slid down her side to her hip and squeezed the small amount of flesh there and then ran it down to cover her navel, willing the area to swell.

“Conceive?” He finished politely. Hermione blushed. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue…” Now he couldn’t meet her eye.

“How’s that?” she asked, the swotty girl from Hogwarts returning.

His thumb dipped into her navel as he took a deep breath. “I had a couple pregnancy scares with past girlfriends even with the contraceptive charms and potion.”

Draco looked up at her, her brow furrowed. Then, he bent down to kiss the skin just below her navel, which made her breath hitch. He didn’t want a child now, not with Voldemort’s stench in his house, not without being married, not with an unsuitable partner. Unsuitable to his parents, Draco reminded himself, not necessarily to him, though. Not after all they’d been through.

However… a child could be one good thing in all this. Not to mention the fact that he was getting hard again, still inside Hermione’s womb at the thought of her belly swelling with his germinating seed.

“Oh,” she gasped as she felt him hardening. He kissed up to her breasts and teased the hardening nipple of one with the tip of his tongue. Hermione moaned and her fingers threaded into his hair as he took that nipple into his mouth, suckling at it greedily as if he were jealous of the babe that would get to do this same thing. Draco wondered what breast milk would taste like and his balls cinched up against his body, his erection becoming impossibly hard deep inside her.

Her hips started to rock against him, still laying on their sides. “You… recovered… quickly....” Hermione panted.

“Do you want to know what I was thinking about?” he asked, his lips rubbing against the underside of her breast as he spoke.

She seemed to think, which stilled her hips. He moved inside her instead, but her guess made him freeze, “An ex?”

Draco looked up at her. She looked hurt like he was betraying her by thinking of another woman while inside of her. A girl more beautiful than she, more pure-blooded than she, more adept than she, more his type than she.

“No, Hermione, not an ex… I’m not the type of man who fantasizes about another when I’m already deep inside the sweetest pussy I’ve ever known.” He flexed his hips and she bit back a sigh. He wished he hadn’t even brought up what he was thinking about. What if it scared her off? Why did that matter to him?

He had to say it, though, to comfort her: “I was thinking about you, (thrust) about you conceiving (thrust), your belly growing heavy with my seed (thrust), our son suckling your wonderful tits.” Draco thrust one last time with her womb gripping him and groaned with his release, pumping into her a second time, another chance for his swimmers in the last day.

Her hands were smoothing down his hair as if to relax him like a child. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he breathed into her neck.

Hermione giggled and the sound of it, so foreign to his ears, made him look at her in surprise. “I just can’t believe you, Draco Malfoy, King of Slytherin, Pure-Blood Prince, would get aroused at the thought of me, a Gryffindor, a mudblood, bearing your child. The war has changed things, it appears.” She searched his eyes, hoping to confirm this truth.

He let himself slip out of her, officially exhausted once again. “You’re right, as always, Hermione. I can’t deny that the way I used to think was wrong. But it’s all I knew. If anything, I hated you more because you made me look like a failure in front of the class and in front of my parents when I wasn’t at the top of the class, not because of your blood status.”

They both laid back, thinking and feeling sated. His gut wrenched at the thought of her disappearing again, back to her cell. Despite his exhaustion, Draco grabbed her nightgown from the floor and handed it back to her.

“You should probably put this on.” She nodded and took it, covering up her nakedness.

“Draco--” And poof, she was gone again. 


	4. The Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes for Draco and Hermione in the Manor of Conception. When Hermione needs a shower, Draco is more than happy to oblige and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The shorter section near the end is in Hermione's perspective from her cell. I may add more of her perspective during her imprisonment later on!

There was a hole, a hell hole, that opened up within him during the 23 hours Hermione was in her cell. Idly, he wondered how she occupied her time there. Probably reciting a book from memory or practicing wandless magic.

In his boredom, Draco thought about what would happen during her pregnancy. It was inevitable, after all. Would he be able to see her? He supposed he wouldn't be needed at that stage since his job was done, but he hated to think of her as an eighteen-year-old going through her first (and forced) pregnancy in a dungeon. Draco shook with rage at that thought. He would have to do something to prevent that.

Perhaps, he waxed optimistically, the war would be over by the time she conceived. Though, that seemed like a fantasy, a product of his delirium imposed by his magicless solitude. Hermione wouldn't want him or his baby after she was free. Did he care about that?

A part of him, blame it on his circumstances, cared for her. They were in this together whether it was willing or not. He felt like he had a duty to do whatever he could to protect her, especially when she was carrying his child. Draco thought of his mother. He knew she'd be disappointed that her grandchild would be a half-blood, but he knew she'd love the baby. Pure-blood lines were diminishing no matter what, so a baby was precious no matter its blood status or circumstances of its conception.

Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. Blinking them away, Draco went back into his exercise routine, pushing his muscles and endurance until he collapsed in a sweaty tangle of limbs. A few hours later, he roused himself enough to have a shower.

Thus, the next week of Draco's life went like clockwork: a few hours of sleep, reading for an hour or two, penning some letters he couldn't send, shagging Hermione when she appeared like a siren, exercising and pushing his limits, showering, and then more sleeping.

Draco felt stronger, more alive than he'd ever felt without a wand or broom. He felt like he could face the Death Eaters and endure the consequences of his family's failures.

One day, it must have been almost three weeks since the dreaded first time when Voldemort had forced him to rape her, she appeared to him like an angel -- some muggle thing she told him about. Draco thought she was glowing, just waiting for him to take her, make her writhe in pleasure. When he rushed to her and claimed her lips, Hermione pushed him off, not violently, sputtering.

“What's wrong, Hermione?" he demanded, a little too possessively.

She looked a little embarrassed. “I-I just need a shower, I feel like I'm disgusting and sweaty, Draco.”

He stared at her for a second, not seeing or smelling what she claimed, but then a wicked thought made him grin lasciviously. Draco took her hand and started to lead her to the bathroom.

“I know where to go--" she protested, stumbling a little.

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist as they entered his bathroom. “I know, love. I just had a great idea that suits both of our needs.” He winked at her and she had the audacity to blush.

She slipped the nightgown over her head and he drank in the sight of her naked figure. As he started shedding his clothing, he remarked, “You look gorgeous, by the way." It seemed that her wardens had been feeding her better than when she was in the run. Where he'd been able to see her bones, there were supple curves. Even her breasts seemed fuller, her nipples pink and just begging for his mouth.

“Such a charmer, Draco," she giggled. “You look fantastic too. Very fit." He felt a surge of pride and testosterone as he flicked the shower on.

She closed the gap between them as they waited for the water to warm up. His manhood was standing at attention and he let out a moan as her hand wrapped around him.

“Always ready for me," Hermione whispered and bit her lip.

"Are you ready for me, Hermione?” he rasped in her ear. She gasped as his fingers brushed her clitoris and searched for the wetness behind it. “Merlin... you're always so wet for me, pet.” She sighed and then huffed when he removed his hand.

“Draco--" she started to whine when he started kissing her as a man possessed. He backed her into the shower, the warm spray barely reaching her arm. The white marble felt cool against her spine compared with Draco's hot and chiseled frame pressing into her front.

His hands wandered, squeezing every inch of extra flesh, every tender curve until he reached her arse. Using his newly built strength, he lifted her, at which she gasped in surprise.

“Wrap your legs around me," he murmured. She complied, wide-eyed. His large cock was now pressed firmly against her wet pussy lips, spreading her open. Her arms secured around his shoulders, Draco entered her easily, slowly, like a hot knife in butter. “You feel so perfect… like you were made for me,” he mumbled, unaware of what he was actually saying.

She didn't seem to mind, just relishing the wholeness of him filling her up to the brim, the lack of emptiness overwhelming her. Hermione's shifted her hips so he slid further inside her faster. “Fuck… you want me, don't you? You want me to shag you properly?”

Hermione whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders. “Say it, Hermione."

“I want you… I want you to shag me properly… Draco!” He growled in response.

His legs were shaking with the effort, but it was a challenge, this position. He pumped his cock in and out of her slick channel, fucking her hard. His balls slapped against her pussy, making her moan uncontrollably. Her noises right before she came were turning him on too much, so he silenced her with a sealing kiss.

Her tongue sliding against his was almost too much for him. The feel of her, taking her like this, roughly, in the shower, showing her his strength and desire was making him want to explode. When her pussy gripped him like a vice and her heels dug into his lower back, Draco couldn't hold back his own orgasm. A few more powerful thrusts and he released one of the most earth-shattering spurts he'd ever felt. He wanted to roar after and also collapse. Hermione went limp in his arms.

Somehow, he managed to hold her up and took her under the warm water. Starting with her breasts, Draco washed her and lathered the soap along her light olive toned skin. She began to stir when he massaged her budding nipples.

“Mmmm… Draco… that was…”

“I know, for me too, love," he grinned against her temple. Her slippery bare buttocks felt amazing against his soft member. She let him continue washing her. “I don't know why I didn't think of this before."

Hermione giggled, still partly in a haze of her orgasm. When he was done languidly soaping up her body, she took over washing her curls. Draco stood behind her as she rinsed the shampoo out. Within that time, he'd hardened again, just watching her wet form.

He lightly pinched a nipple and pressed himself against the seam of her arse. “Do we have time for another round?"

Hermione hummed and pressed back into him. Her luscious flesh beckoned to him, the curve of her lower spine as she bent over made him feel insane with desire. He didn't know if he'd ever stop wanting her.

“Draco," she gasped over the rush of the shower. He stopped sliding into her midway, thinking he’d hurt her. “Fuck me hard, please."

“Your wish…” he slammed into her, feeling the tip of his cock bump her cervix. “Is my command…” Her hands grappled on the tile to maintain her position, keeping him where he was fully seated within her.

She felt like she was going to rip in half, and she wanted him to divide her so that part of her could stay with him in his room. Hermione cried out at every bone-jarring thrust he gave her. It was too good, but she didn’t know how long she would last after being so sensitive from the first round. As her orgasm approached, she needed him to let go and come with her.

“Draco… fuck! Fill me up with your spunk. I need it… Fill up my empty pussy--”

She heard him gasp at her words and then growl his release, pumping inside her. She felt his sperm being sucked up by her own orgasm, her pussy greedy for his seed. They stumbled backward into the spray and Draco managed to brace himself on the sidewall as he slipped out of her warm womb.

Hermione soaped up his toned chest, caressing his muscles and washed his softened member. She gave him a soft slap on the arse cheek that had him groaning. Chuckling, she did it again, to which he retaliated by tickling her ribcage.

When she surrendered, he grabbed a towel and wrapped her in it along with his arms. They stood there for a few minutes in silent contentment, hoping that they had a little bit longer together. Draco turned her to face him and gave her a kiss, trying to infuse more meaning into it than he could tell her.

A few seconds later, after he tore himself away from her, Hermione disappeared.

***

Hermione shivered uncontrollably after returning to her cell with wet hair. She picked up one of the nightgowns they’d supplied her with and threw it over her head. With a rye smirk, she supposed that they didn’t want to be exposed to her naked mudblood temptation; they wouldn’t want to be sullied by her presence.

Not that they’d complained when Voldemort had imperiused Draco to rape her in front of all of them. Some had whistled and jeered. Her stomach cramped just thinking about the experience.

Hermione was grateful for her shower with Draco. At least she hadn’t gone back to her cell with his seed dripping down her thighs, but she regretted not being able to dry her hair properly. She knew the spell by heart, of course. And as the brightest witch of her age, she’d attempted wandless magic and practiced it, but only simple summoning spells. It was difficult to harness one’s magic without a wand and she could feel her power bubbling under her skin, waiting to be released.

She attempted to dry her hair, whispering the incantation, imagining the wave of her wand. A droplet fell from one of her curls. Hermione tried a few more times but to no avail. She cried out in frustration and exhaustion. And then, a wave of nausea hit her. Her stomach lurched and she vomited in the corner.

Now, she was grateful for her wet hair sticking to her neck, cooling the heat rising in her from the bile burning her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes. Of course, she’d get sick after being imprisoned for so long. The food was edible at least, but her cell certainly wasn’t sanitary, especially now that it included her puke.

Hermione wished her mum was there, or at least Draco, to wrap his arms around her, to rub her back, to hold her hair back. She recalled what she’d said to him in the throes of passion: Fill me up with your spunk. I need it… Fill up my empty pussy. She didn’t know what possessed her to say it.

Perhaps, she was accepting her fate.

“Shit…” Hermione whispered to no one. Her monthly visitor hadn’t come, not since she’d had to hide tampons from Harry and Ron over a month ago in their tent. 


	5. Revealing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Hermione's POV.

Voldemort had succeeded, Hermione thought bitterly. She was pregnant, more or less against her will, with her schoolyard menace’s child. At first, it was rape, it was forced, but now… It sounded insane, but she was feeling something for Draco. Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones or maybe it was the mind-blowing sex?

No matter how many times that she’d fantasized about being rescued by the Order, she didn’t think about it during that hour of reprieve in Draco’s bedroom. It sounded cheesy, but his arms were her escape. She shuddered in the drafty cell, her hair still wet against her neck.

Her body started to ache, muscles tired from their exertion and now the newfound knowledge of her pregnancy. She stared at the lines on her wrist, the skin red and abused. Her plan to get the blasted transporting bracelet off or disable it had only caused a sore wrist. Although, she would be stuck without Draco if she’d gotten it off in her cell. There wasn’t a way to disable it either. Hermione wasn’t sure what kind of magic it used––was it like a portkey or did it use something akin to apparition?

Lying on her side in the fetal position, Hermione willed herself to fall asleep until the elderly healer came to check her for Draco’s semen. Her stomach lurched at the thought of the healer discovering her pregnancy. She tried to push the dread out of her mind.

*******

Draco awoke from a nap with a faint popping sound and the bed shifting at the weight on another body. When he opened his eyes, he could see Hermione’s chest rising and falling from her position curled up on her side. She was shivering in her sleep.

He wrapped himself around her, pulling the covers over them both. Hermione stirred and thrashed in his arms, whimpering.

“Shhh… Hermione, it’s me, Draco,” he whispered.

“Draco?” she turned into his chest and her face crumpled. He held her tightly as she sobbed into his shirt.

“It’s okay… I’m here, Hermione. Are you okay?” Stroking her hair, he tried to calm her down.

Teary-eyed and sniffling, she answered him after a few minutes, “I thought I wouldn’t see you again… I thought they’d find out before––” Hermione hiccoughed. “Before they sent me back to you.”

Dreadfully confused, Draco asked, “Find out what?” She looked uncomfortable, biting her lip and shifting in his arms.

“I think I’m pregnant, Draco. I–I missed my period, I think.”

He froze and a mixture of elation and fear twisted in his stomach. “Are–are you sure?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I counted the weeks correctly. And I was sick a few times after I got back to my cell... I’m just not sure why they haven’t done the diagnostic yet. Isn’t it what they want?”

Draco frowned. “What they want is your pregnancy and our child to shame my family. Which I’m sure it will,” he muttered bitterly. Hermione twisted out of his arms.”But that’s really not how I feel, Hermione!”

He scooted himself over to the edge of the bed where she sat, her arms hugging her middle. Thinking better of touching her, Draco knelt before her.

“I don’t care about all the hate, the pretenses, the politics, the drama. None of that matters. It hasn’t mattered since I’ve been stuck in this manor. I’ve really only cared about you. It’s hard to believe, I know, but––”

Hermione interrupted him with a kiss. She’d grabbed his face and smashed his lips to hers, desperately needing to feel him in case this was their last time together. Draco responded fiercely and pulled her on top of him where he now lie on the ground.

He’d just admitted his feelings and now she was returning the favor, it seemed, in actions. Hermione felt him hard in his pants, her core grinding down against him. His hands dug into her hips as he moaned into her mouth. Ever efficient, she lifted up and lowered his pants down far enough to let his weeping cock spring free.

Shedding her soiled nightgown and baring her shapely body to him, Draco wanted to ravish her. The girl––no, woman––carrying his child deserved to be worshipped, pleasured. As she rubbed the slick head of him through her swollen folds, he noticed how her nipples looked a bit duskier, her abdomen a little fuller. Merlin, she was a goddess of fertility.

“Hermione,” he growled as she teased him by not fulling sinking down on his raging erection. “Please, I need to be inside you––FUCK!”

She slammed down on him with a determined glimmer to her golden eyes. He struggled to control himself once he was enveloped in her heat. It was like his cock was being strangled by a wet gloved fist. When she started to ride him, he didn’t think he’d last a minute more.

“Draco!” Hermione keened as he felt her walls flutter around him, almost at her peak. One of his hands toyed with her erect nipple and the other rubbed at her nub where they were joined. He bucked up into her when he felt her juices dripping around him.

“Come on, love. Make that pretty pussy come for me. It’s begging to be filled with my cum.”

With a cry, Hermione clenched around him. She threw her head back in ecstasy and he arched his back off the floor to make sure he stayed balls deep inside her when he succumbed to his own orgasm.

He knew he’d left bruises on her hips and that she’d left claw marks on his shoulders, but neither cared for the time being. She collapsed onto his chest, his arms folding around her back. Draco felt her lips caress his ear and shivered at the feathery touch.

“Draco… we need to come up with a plan,” she said breathlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, know, I know... you're asking "What happened to the rest of this chapter?" Truth be told, I didn't have much time this week and I was already late with posting, so I thought I'd give you a little something at least. I know it's a cliffhanger ending too, so I'm sorry to torture you all! If I can crank out two chapters next week (one for Past Transgressions and one for Manor of Conception) I'll post both. Thanks for reading!


	6. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix makes an appearance. Hermione and Draco are brought before Voldemort once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all! Apologies that I'm a few weeks behind on my postings. The holidays were crazy and I've been in several different locations in the past few weeks without internet access. I will attempt to adhere to my normal posting schedule on a weekly rotation on the weekends. I don't plan on adding another fic until I'm finished with this one and Past Transgressions. Thanks for all your comments and hope you enjoy this first chapter of 2019!

Hermione fought brimming tears when she landed back in her cell. Before she’d left, Draco had kissed her sweetly, his hands splayed possessively across her still-flat stomach. In the remaining half an hour, they had developed a way to convince the Death Eaters not to completely separate them when the time came.

She couldn’t tell if it was the pregnancy or her nervousness at what they would do when Voldemort found out, but she dry-heaved for a few minutes, her stomach turning riotously. The normally somber dungeon was suddenly filled with maniacal laughter. An icy bolt of fear stabbed through Hermione’s chest at the familiar sound.

Bellatrix Lestrange hadn’t tortured her or “visited” her since before Voldemort declared Hermione as Draco’s whore. No one knew about her condition yet. She felt conflicted as the cackling came closer, rebounding off the cold, stone walls. Alone she could survive the maniac’s curses again, but would she lose the baby if Bellatrix tortured her? Tears came unbidden, stinging and clouding her eyes.

Heeled shoes clacked clumsily down the stone floors. Hermione imagined the insane witch swaying down the corridor and it made her stomach turn again, her vision swaying. Voldemort’s right-hand witch was almost upon her when a hesitant voice rang out.

“Bella? Are you down here?” A platinum blonde head appeared around where Bellatrix was now draped in shadows.

“Cissy? Go back up to your tower, sister,” the dark-haired witch hissed.

“What are you going to do, Bella?” Mrs. Malfoy stood her ground in the din.

“Just want to have a little fun with the mudblood whore.” Hermione could hear the deranged smile in her words.

Mrs. Malfoy tapped her foot in disapproval. “What would the Dark Lord say? That’s not her purpose, Bella.”

“Oh, right. I seem to recall she’s here to punish your precious family, tainting your bloodline,” Bellatrix taunted.

“And you wouldn’t want to stop the Dark Lord from doing that, would you?” Mrs. Malfoy said craftily, ever the Slytherin.

Hermione could almost hear the pout in Bellatrix’s voice. “Fine, Cissy.”

She collapsed in relief, knees cracking at the impact on the stone floor. The floodgates holding back her tears opened up and released her choking sobs. Hermione was almost too distracted listening to the footsteps behind her to see the vomit magically disappear from her cell floor.  
  


***

Draco didn’t know what time it was when someone hauled him out of bed. He was naked from the waist up, but that didn’t deter whoever was manhandling him. His first lucid thought was It’s happening. Mentally, even though his brain wasn’t at full capacity, Draco ran through the plan he and Hermione had concocted.

Although he’d known how brilliant Hermione was in school, he hadn’t witnessed her true cunningness, a trait that surely could have landed her in Slytherin if she hadn’t been so stubborn, until they’d hatched their scheme. She was emotionally and intellectually intelligent in addition to being sexy as hell. He couldn’t help but swell with pride at the mother of his child’s resilience -- even though his pride was currently being severely bruised with every stair the masked Death Eater dragged him down.

Whoever was behind the mask hoisted him up to full height, black gloves around his neck, and then sneered, “We thought you’d fail again, Draco. The Dark Lord was surprised, truly.”

Draco didn’t have time to defend himself verbally or physically when the Death Eater threw him back on the floor and once again dragged him into the drawing room. His stomach clenched at entering the room where he’d been powerless on three separate occasions to save Hermione. He couldn’t fail her again. She was the only one he cared about saving anymore. His father had decided his family’s fate and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Somehow, it seemed like no time had passed since the last time he’d been forcibly dragged to grovel at Voldemort’s gnarled feet. And yet, for Draco, everything had changed.

“So, young Draco, my healer has confirmed the mudblood’s conception of the next Malfoy heir.”

He convulsed at the word _mudblood_ , but the Dark Lord thought he’d reacted to _heir_. It took all his willpower to not look over to where he knew Hermione was sitting and bound. Draco felt a strong tether to her, something pulling tight against his chest.

“Yet of course,” the Dark Lord continued. “Your punishment is not over. There’s the birth of this mongrel to consider and then its existence haunting the Malfoy line forever.” He could almost hear the serpent-esque wizard licking his lips in satisfaction. Draco shook with rage. “I suppose we should keep you separated from the child and its filthy mother until its birth until I can be sure that no harm will come to it. If we're lucky it'll be a squib,” Voldemort mused to the murmuring crowd.

His fingers clenched, nail cutting bloody crescents into his palms. Draco had trained his physical and mental reactions well enough, but this scenario was too volatile, too close to his heart.

“Bring the mudblood to me, I want to see her. How she’s fairing.” Draco almost bit his tongue to keep still. He heard her knees sliding against the marble as she joined him in front of Voldemort.

“Ah yes, she does look a bit heftier than before. You saw to that, Draco.” The Dark Lord cackled.

“Draco!” He flinched as Hermione called out to him, hesitantly at first. Then, she said it louder so that Voldemort stopped his insane laughter and looked at her. “Look at me, Draco!”

“What’s this?” The Dark Lord’s voice brightened in interest and malice.

“Fight for me, you coward!” she spat at him.

He finally faced her, teeth bared. “Shut up, you disgusting cow! How dare you speak in the Dark Lord’s presence!”

Voldemort almost looked giddy, hopping from foot to foot like a child.

“But Draco--”

“Stop calling me that! You have no right to use my first name, mudblood.”

“You said you’d raise him like your heir, that you’d marry--”

***

Hermione yelped as he lunged at her and nearly tackled her to the floor. Draco’s hand clenched around her mouth made her think of the first time she’d appeared in his bedroom. It seemed like so long ago.

“You fucking little mudblood whore. You think I’d do any of that for you? Did you think that all this time was some kind of lovemaking? I fucked your cunt because I had to!”

Hermione sobbed and shrieked at him behind his hand. He didn’t relent until a spell was hurled at him to separate them. Draco lay sprawled on the floor and she crawled to him.

“No! Draco! I love you, come back to me…” She broke into hysterical sobs.

“My, my, my. The mudblood whore has fallen in love with Draco. How touching!” Sniggers came from the crowd of his followers as Voldemort watched the pair.

Once Draco had come to, he shoved her off him. “Stay away from me, you slag!”

Voldemort clapped his hands together once, disrupting the display before him. “I’ve made up my mind. Guards, move the mudblood into Draco’s quarters. Let’s see how these two can live domestically together.”

The snake-like wizard narrowed his eyes at Draco who shrunk back and batted her hands away from him. She saw Draco struggle to his hands and knees on the polished marble. Her heart seized when she saw Voldemort silently approach him.

Putting a bony digit beneath the blonde's chin, the evil wizard lifted Draco up to his height, nose to slitted nostrils, silver irises to snake eyes. Hermione tried to hear what words passed those reptilian lips, but it was too quiet. Draco grimaced and the leader dropped him back down with a thud.

She wanted to go to him, but the Death Eaters were dragging her away from him. Willing herself to be calm, hoping that Voldemort's minions would obey his orders. Hermione took a deep breath knowing that their performance had been convincing. She hoped that legilimency wouldn't be necessary since she wasn't as practiced as Draco was at occlumency.

Instead of bringing her back to her cell, the masked Death Eaters deposited her in Draco's room after magically levitating her up the stairs. Hermione was careful not to let the relief show until the dark wizards closed the door.

Then, after Draco hadn’t come back after what had to be about a half hour, her relief twisted into anxiety.

***

Draco didn’t know if he couldn’t feel any more battered than he felt now -- physically and emotionally -- as the Death Eater pulled him like a limp corpse along the floor. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, resigned to being pummeled by the stairs once again.

That didn’t happen.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was being dragged off the usual course back to his room. Now, they were headed for his father’s study. A knot formed beneath his ribs and settled in close to his heart. He struggled to breathe as he was dumped unceremoniously onto the expensive Persian rug before his father’s desk.

As he struggled to his feet, Draco felt his feet leave the ground, yanked up by his hair. A gasp of surprise left his lips, his scalp on fire, as he was forced to face his father’s matching silver eyes. Those eyes looked mad. Lucius’ white-blonde hair was falling into his eyes and he hadn’t shaven in a day or two.

“What did the Dark Lord whisper to you, boy?” he hissed, a fine spray of spit coating his cheeks.

Draco barely gritted out, “He said if I hurt her, he’d know.”

His father released him as if he’d been scalded by his words. Lucius’ upper lip was raised in disgust and what Draco realized was fear. He knew what his father was thinking. That everything he’d built had been ruined by Draco’s decision. And so far, there was nothing he could do about it when the Malfoys weren’t in favor with the Dark Lord.

“Get out of my sight!” With the wave of his cane, at which Draco couldn’t help but flinch at the nearness, the heavy wooden door opened.

To avoid looking like a kicked puppy, Draco stood to his full height, a few inches above his father. He hoped his feet would carry him strongly out in defiance. Everything about this situation was absurd, but it was life during the war.

One of the masked Death Eaters, probably the one who’d been brutally dragging him in and out of his room, made a move to grab him. Draco shoved him off, finding new strength in his encounter with his father. His position was still precarious, no matter what, but at least Hermione was safe.

No one made another move for him as he ascended the stairs with dignity, his torso still bare and bruises blooming despite his confidence. 


	7. Alternative Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happened to Draco while Hermione was waiting for him. What can she do? A new ally appears as well as a book! (there's a lemon towards the end)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I have not abandoned you! I've simply gone back on my promise to post every other week and I'm sorry about that. I'm almost a week behind, so it might be a little longer until there's another chapter. To make up for all this lateness, this chapter is a bit longer than usual AND you get a lemon!!! Hope you forgive me and enjoy the ride. ;)

Hermione’s heart skipped a few beats as a tall figure draped in shadow loomed in the doorway to Draco’s room. As it came into the light, she realized it was Draco. Her exhale of relief turned into a cry when he toppled over onto his hands and knees.

She could see he arms shaking in the effort to hold himself up. His eyes were squeezed shut, seemingly in exhaustion or pain. Hermione thought he’d looked okay before they’d brought her up to the room before him. Something must have happened.

“Draco? What happened? You were gone for a while.”

He shook his head, still struggling. It didn’t seem like he could speak.

“Let’s get you on the bed, okay? That’ll feel better, I promise.”

Draco grunted as she tried to help him stand. He seemed to waver in her arms, his height dwarfing her and his weight making her struggle to keep him upright. He walked like a newborn fawn, knees wobbling, across the few feet to the four-poster bed. Hermione started sweating in the effort to support him.

He collapsed in a heap of limbs onto the feather-soft mattress, the silk sheets swallowing him. She lie down next to him on her side facing him, her front warming his clammy arm. Brushing his hair from sticking to his forehead, she felt his feverish brow. Hermione frowned.

How did this sickness take him down so quickly? Could it be something to do with the dark magic from Voldemort’s curses? Had the Death Eaters done something to him while she’d been waiting for him?

Although she didn’t want to leave him alone, Hermione slipped away to the bathroom to run a hand towel under cold water and returned to place it on his burning forehead. His eyes fluttered underneath his shut lids.

What else could she do? Hermione didn’t have a wand and barely could manage basic wandless magic. She didn’t know what was wrong with him in the first place. A bolt of anxiety coursed through her and then a jolt of bile had her running back to the bathroom.

Once her stomach had completely emptied itself into the toilet bowl, she splashed cold water onto her face and rinsed out the sweat gathering in her hairline. Her nausea still lingered even without anything in her system. Water seemed like a good idea but didn’t do much to quell her quivering insides.

Walking back into the bedroom, Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when a popping of apparition sounded. A small elf appeared carrying a tray, which it nearly dropped upon seeing Hermione. She stared into saucer-sized eyes that reminded her of Dobby’s.

“Hello, there,” Hermione said gently.

“Hullo, you’s Miss Granger?”

“Yes, and what’s your name?” The elf looked down at the tray nervously.

“I’s Winnie. I serve Mistress and the young Master,” the house elf explained as she set the tray down on the dresser.

Hermione nodded, her thoughts returning to Dobby and his treatment by the Malfoys. Winnie had a ratty pillowcase like the rest of the subservient elves she’d ever seen, the ones who inspired her to create S.P.E.W. While she couldn’t do much here, she could at least treat Winnie with respect and help her if needed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Winnie. I knew an elf by the name of Dobby who served the Malfoys--” Winnie made a squeak, her eyes even wider, which Hermione hadn’t thought possible.

“We’s not to say his name! Master Lucius forbid it.”

Hermione chewed on her lip. Of course, Lucius forbid it after Harry freed him, especially since Dobby was able to free him, Ron, Luna, Griphook, and Ollivander. She was left behind.  
She decided to change the subject. “What have you got there, Winnie?”

“Tea and biscuits, miss. The young Master’s favorite.”

Hermione followed the elf’s gaze toward the bed where Draco lie.

“How thoughtful of you, Winnie! Master Draco is feeling a bit under the weather, so he will surely appreciate some after his nap.” She winced as her stomach cramped. Winnie gazed at where her hand was massaging her abdomen and then swiveled back toward the bed.

“Mistress says you and the young Master will bring another young master into the house,” Winnie said with wonder in her squeaky voice. The elf’s reverent tone surprised Hermione, especially in reference to Draco’s mother. She breathed through the pinching and stood up straight.

“Would Miss like tea?” the elf offered.

“Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, Winnie.”

The elf seemed beside herself with the willingness to serve. Hermione hoped she was going about this in the right way. She didn’t want to become the new Mistress, only a friend and confidant to the poor elf servant.

“Do you know any healing magic, Winnie?” The elf peered around the room abashedly.

“I’s do… For the babe?” she asked, wide eyes targeting Hermione’s womb.

Hermione shook her head. “No, Winnie, the babe is healthy. For Master Draco, I meant.”

Winnie observed her prone young master longingly. The elf tip-toed over to him and cast a spell that Hermione couldn’t see, something diagnostic she hoped. The small creature came back to the table where Hermione sipped her tea and was wringing her hands.

“What is it, Winnie?” Hermione forced a few deep breaths to calm herself before the news.

“Young Master’s magic, he’s weak. Needs restoring,” the house elf said to the ground, unable to meet her eye.

“How’s that?” she breathed.

“Winnie cannot…” The elf shifted in her pillowcase uncomfortably.

Hermione couldn’t help her desperation, “Please, Winnie. Please tell me how I can help him!”

The elf’s large eyes stared into hers and then looked around the room. Upon spotting the bookshelf, she snapped her fingers and a dusty book from the very top shelf floated down in a shower of particles to her. Winnie opened to a page and turned the book so Hermione could read it.

> **_Restoring Magic_ **
> 
> _With intense magical exertion, whether active or defensive spellwork, a witch or wizard can drain their magical energy source, especially when wandless magic is used. Without the directional capabilities of a wand, magical energy can flow more freely and consequently drain more quickly._
> 
> _Restorative potions can replenish some of the drained magical person’s source, but in cases of extreme exhaustion, this may not completely heal or restore the witch or wizard. In this case, another witch or wizard can bond with the patient’s magical source, which requires the intimacy of a partner or_ spouse, _and_ replenish _the drained source by stimulating it with his or her own magical energy. Once this connection is established, the spouse acts as a catalyst for the depleted witch or wizard’s restoration. This type of healing can also strengthen both persons’ magical energy as well as strengthen their intimate bond, which makes it easier to replenish their energy with the presence of their partner._

Hermione hadn’t realized that the elf had disappeared or that her jaw had nearly dropped into her collarbone. She’d been so absorbed in the passage, which she’d never read before. Keeping her thumb on the page, she closed the tome to see the title: _Alternative Healing Methods_.

Alternative was right, Hermione thought to herself. She’d already checked the bathroom cabinet for healing potions, but there wasn’t anything she could work with. Chewing on her lip, she had to consider this book’s advice as a viable option to help Draco. It seemed strange to see him lying on the bed, seeing him for this long -- was it longer than their usual hour now? She couldn’t be sure.

What she was sure of was how odd it felt considering initiating sex with Draco when he was barely conscious. However, she couldn’t leave him in his current state. He was defenseless and she didn’t know what happened to him. Hermione had to bring him back, recharge him so to speak.

At least she was comforted by the thought that she knew he’d enjoy her ministrations even if he wasn’t fully aware. As she approached the bed, Hermione sincerely hoped that he could maintain an erection in his diminished state.

Peeling off her tattered nightgown, she kneeled next to his legs. She removed his shorts with some effort, having to lift him up to pull them down. Hermione froze when she heard him groan.

His eyes were shut tightly, crinkled against the pain wracking his body or mind or both. Then she heard him grunt and then breath, “Myy… neee… *grunt* myy… neee.”

Draco was calling her name, just barely!

She crawled up so that her head was near his. “Draco, it’ll be okay. I’m trying to heal you. I hope I don’t hurt you… just please know that I’m doing whatever I can.” Blinking back tears, she squeezed his hand lightly and felt him return a small amount of pressure. Her heart soared.

At least he was a little lucid. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Hermione felt strange doing this without kissing him, without his active participation. She started pressing light kisses to his navel and when it didn’t seem to cause him pain, she continued down his silver-haired happy trail.

Her hand started stroking his limp cock. Hermione realized that she’d never really had to help him get hard before. He’d always been ready upon seeing her. She didn’t take it in any offense. Of course, she couldn’t expect him to be hard up when he was delirious!

Draco seemed to shift his hips into her hand as his dick started to respond. She noticed a difference in his breathing, it was a little heavier now with her attending to him. Wanting to speed the process up, she leaned down to lick the mushroom head and felt his hips buck and he sighed in pleasure.

Relieved, Hermione was spurred in by his body’s quick response to her ministrations. She suckled on the tip a little more and he thrust a little harder. Picking up the pace with her strokes, Hermione felt her own excitement rush between her legs, her nipples pebbling against the dry air.

Part of it may have been wanting to see if the book’s advice would help. She always loved books and learning and had never expected magic and sex to intersect.

His hands seemed to twitch in a grabbing motion. Hermione imagined him massaging her breasts, her nipples begging for attention now. His breaths came out in little huffs, his eyes rolling around underneath their lids.

With a small amount of difficulty at the awkward angle, Hermione positioned Draco’s cock in line with her core and swirled the head of him along her damp pussy lips. Her breath hitched at the solidness of him combined with her own sensitivity.

She sank down on him slowly, letting herself adjust to his large intrusion, though it was welcome enough judging by how wet she was. Her walls clenched as if hugging his cock in greeting. When he was fully seated inside her, she closed her eyes to savor the fullness, wholeness.

“You feel so good, Draco… I hope I can make you feel good, make you well again,” she whispered and started to grind her hips back and forth on him.

_“Ride me… Make yourself feel good, love,”_ his voice disrupted her quiet enjoyment like an echo in her mind.

Hermione gasped and her eyes shot open to find him still in a fevered dream state, eyes still shut and breathing labored. He hadn’t spoken out loud. Had he reached out to her through Legilimency?

_“Don’t think so much, Hermione,”_ his voice answered, ringing a little clearer amongst her thoughts.

She shook her head in disbelief. “How can you say that--”

Hermione was cut off by a light tweak to her nipple, making her hips buck into him and her clit rub deliciously against his pelvic bone. It took her a second to realize that he must have planted that sensation in her mind because he couldn’t move his body.

  
_“I need you to continue what you started, love. As much as I’d love to fuck you into the mattress, I can’t. Enjoy the ride, make yourself come all over my cock.”_

Her insides clenched at his dirty words and she felt Draco’s dick harden more as she started to move again. Leaning forward with her hands on either side of his head, Hermione found the perfect angle to stimulate her clit and where he felt the most penetrating.

As she picked up her speed, his hips automatically started minutely thrusting up into her. He was huffing little breaths as he neared his peak. She was close too, but needed something to send her over the edge.

_“Fuck, Hermione. You’re so wet for me… Come for me!”_ And seemingly on command, her orgasm slammed into her in a rush of sensation.


	8. Magical Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello beautiful readers! I'm so sorry that it took so long for another update. This is a very short peace offering. I'm hoping to get another chapter up this weekend, so double the reading! Hope you enjoy this quick chapter.

Hermione heard his moans in her mind as he erupted inside her as she bucked into him through her own release. This time, though, she felt a magical tingling when they came together. It felt like a culmination of light magic, like a spark of light in a dark room.

She'd slumped over on top of Draco, her head against his chest. His breathing returned to a steady pace and as she peeled herself off him, Hermione saw a bit of color returning to his pale skin. While she knew she should clean them both, her legs felt wobbly and she felt the exhaustion of the last day overtake her.

Hermione was dreaming. For once, it wasn’t a nightmare, but more of a glimpse into the future:

> _Her hand rested on her swollen stomach, feeling for her child’s movement. Another hand joined hers and she felt a kick along with a slight shock of energy._ Magic.
> 
> _Draco chuckled near her ear. “It’s part of the magical bond. We’ve become one through our child and we’re joined right now.”_
> 
> _She sighed and leaned her head back to rest in the crook of his shoulder. The sunlight was warm on her skin and Hermione realized they were outside laying on the grassy shoulder before it met a beach. The sea spray felt so fresh in her lungs that she felt giddy._
> 
> _Draco’s hand slid down over her bump and dipped below the stretchy material of her shorts. His fingers rested over her lower lips ever so teasingly._
> 
> _“Draco,” she half-warned, half-moaned._
> 
> _His throaty laugh made her breath hitch. “It’s alright, love. We’re safe, we’re free now.”_

She woke up with his arms curled around her, his erection prodding her bum. Her stomach was still flat, but Draco’s hands didn’t seem to mind as one wandered up to cup her breast and the other squeezed her hip.

Hermione gasped as a magical spark lightly shocked her nipple that his hand was fondling. Then, the spark jumped to her clit and she let out a surprised moan. The spark seemed to be flickering against her button, almost like it was his finger. She couldn’t help but enjoy the sensation, not ready to question anything yet.

The stimulation was concentrated on her sensitive, but Draco’s hand squeezed her breast lightly, the magic seeming to vibrate with his touch. She was so close that she was whining, breathing his name.

“ _Let me take care of you, Hermione. Like you took care of me, made me feel good,_ ” his voice whispered in her mind.

She cried out, a strangled sound, as she came all over his hand. The spark lessened as it coaxed her through her orgasm. He was still hard against the base of her spine as her ragged breathing returned to normal.

“How are you doing this, Draco?” she whispered.

He snuggled closer, gripping her like a lifeline. “ _Our magical cores are intertwined even while mine is weak. My magic can tap into your magic; I can communicate with you through the connection you established. Our baby makes this bond even stronger, his or her magical signature is a combination of ours right now._ ”

Hermione fought tears through his explanation. She had no idea magic could be so poetic, so beautiful.

“What happened to you?”

“ _I drained my magic, love, with Occlumency. I had to keep my walls up while we were performing for Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. I had to make them believe the charade with false memories. My godfather warned me that this could happen, but I couldn’t let my guard down. Not even when my father intercepted me on my way back to you._ ”

“Oh Draco… Your father?” her voice hitched.

“ _He was suspicious. I had to keep the act up for him. I felt him bombarding my walls. He was seeking for more than he asked out loud._ ”

Hermione bit her lip, trying to think about what this all meant for them. “What did he ask?”

  
“ _He wanted to know what Voldemort said to me. He told me not to hurt you, believe it or not. But that’s just what he wants. He wants my family disgraced and certainly my father feels that way… But this bond we have, it’s a blessing. Some married couples don’t even have this level of a connection._ ”

Hermione turned in his arms and clung to him. “Thank you, for protecting us. I just want you to come back to me, Draco.”

She could hear his chuckle in her mind. “ _I’m right here, pet._ ”

Even though she knew he couldn’t see her, she rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“ _You know, the more we connect the faster I can recover,_ ” he said impishly, his erection still insistent, pressing into her stomach.

“Draco, I can’t believe you’re horny right now!” she teased, pushing him to lie flat on his back on the bed.

If a smirk could be audible, Hermione could have sworn she heard it in her mind as she straddled his hips and lowered down onto him. Her body seemed to rejoice as he filled her womb. 


	9. Heir Apparent

“ _Fuck, you’re so wet for me, Hermione,_ ” he groaned once he was fully seated inside her.

With a swirl of her hips, she giggled at the moan she drew from him, both audible and in her head. His hands were limply resting on her thighs, but all of the sudden the magical spark from earlier started torturing her clit once again.

“Draco!” she gasped as the combination of sensations overwhelmed her and she drenched his cock.

“ _You’re a goddess, you really are. I don’t deserve you…_ ” Draco was murmuring in her mind. His voice was strained as it would have been if he’d been talking out loud. “ _I couldn’t name a better witch to carry my heir… he’s going to be wicked smart and beautiful and kind…_ ”

Tears leaked from her eyes at the sentiments about their child. Hermione hoped that somehow his words would come to fruition. That they’d get out of this mess of a war like she’d dreamt. She didn’t want a child living through this let alone growing up in it.

“He will be, you’ll see,” she wished aloud. “He’ll have us.”

Hermione struggled to hold herself up as she rode his cock, shuddering as it pumped in and out of her, the sounds her breathing and the slickness between them dominating the quiet room.

Another tingling started to build within her, much different than an orgasm but no less pleasant. It started in her womb and branched out to tickle her nipples and cascade down her arms to her fingertips resting on either side of Draco’s head. The sensation trickled down her legs to where her knees pressed into the bed and all the way to her toes. It became warmer where they were touching: between her legs, where her thighs rested on his pelvis, and when she pressed her lips to his, there was a surge of magical energy. It ignited every cell in her body and appeared to jolt Draco’s as well as he bucked into her on instinct as his release came simultaneously.

Wave after wave of magical pleasure gripped her and she unknowingly rolled off him without disconnecting them. They lie in one another’s arms, basking in the light of their connection. Hermione reluctantly let go of consciousness.

*******

Draco awoke, groggy and disoriented, but surprisingly stronger than he’d ever thought he’d be again. He could feel magical energy radiating through him, coaxing his magical reserves to rebuild. His magic felt lighter, airier than he’d ever experienced. It must be from Hermione’s magical signature. She was the only light in his dark, twisted life; she would give him a son and he would try to give her the world.

Hermione was still wrapped around him, his softened cock still nestled in her damp folds. Somehow, though, a blanket was draped over them. Draco thought it was strange until he saw an elf out of the corner of his eye.

“Winnie?” he croaked pitifully. The house elf turned her bright green eyes on him out of shock.

“Young master? You’s awake!” she squeaked.

“Thank you for the blanket,” he said kindly, still testing out his rough voice.

Winnie looked at him in confusion. “I’s didn’t bring the blanket, young master.”

Draco looked to the witch beside him, still asleep but practically pulsing with magical light in her veins. She looked like an angel, something he’d heard about in a muggle studies class: a being of pure light and beauty. Hermione must have used wandless and wordless magic to cover them with the blanket. It was the only explanation.

He marveled at her. She was so generous, brilliant, and now she’d saved his life for a second time. First, by agreeing to become pregnant as his family’s punishment and now by forming a bond with him and replenishing his magic.

“I love you, Hermione Granger.”

He stroked her hair, the curls matted where her sweat had dampened it. She sighed at his touch and snuggled closer to him. With some effort, he raised himself up on a forearm.

“Winnie, thank you for the food and assistance. Can you please leave us?” he asked politely, trying to convey as much sincerity as he could muster.

Once the elf had popped away, he crawled toward the middle of the bed and turned his witch onto her back before settling his head between her thighs. Her pussy lips glistened with juices and she seemed to shiver without the blanket. Pulling it over his head and up to her bosom, he didn’t need the light to perform this task.

Hermione mewelled when his tongue licked a stripe from the bottom to top of her labia, avoiding her sensitive nub. Her thighs closed around his head, but he was able to hold them at bay by scooping under her to bring the feast closer to his face. He drank her like a man dying of thirst, which he was in fact, but he only thirsted for her juices, their combined essence tantalizing him like honey.

Her hips bucked against his face, seeking more friction, but he couldn’t give her that yet. He nipped the insides of her thighs. That deception earned him a frustrated groan. Draco chuckled against her nether lips, which were leaking like a broken faucet. He devoured her, drawing delicious moans from her.

Hermione’s hands found his hair, trying to press his face closer to her clit. He smirked and stuck his tongue inside her while his nose rubbed against her nub. Her walls contracted around him and she almost screamed in pleasure as the penetration and friction did her in. She almost tore out half his hair but he didn’t care at all.

At this point, she was fucking his face and he lapped up her juices before shoving two fingers inside her. Hermione squealed and it tapered off into a choked sob when he sucked her clit into his mouth while scissoring his fingers inside her.

She was calling his name over and over again like it was a mantra. A third finger squelched inside her dripping gash and her thighs and pussy were trying to suffocate him. Draco would die here in a heartbeat if it weren’t for the child growing in her womb. And, by the strength of their magical connection and synergy, the child would be stronger than his parents.

With a choked cry, Hermione came again, her pussy tightening like a vice on his fingers. His mouth flooded with her juices and he nearly drowned in her release. She went limp, cooing incoherently above him.

He stiffly crawled up to cradle her boneless body. She sighed against him and murmured something into his shoulder.

“What was that, love?”

“Did you really just go down on me after coming out of a coma?” He laughed heartily.

“Of course I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, I'm posting this chapter a few days early, only a few days after the other one! Your comments have sparked my mused, so thank you very much for reading and commenting. I'll try my best to keep the posting consistent to every other week once again.


	10. Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lemons here, sorry! I gotta move the plot along. I anticipate only a few more chapters.

“Winnie,” Draco called as he settled beside Hermione, covering her bare body with the blanket.

The elf popped into the room, peering wide-eyed at the two of them. She seemed even more nervous than she had been with Hermione.

“Thank you for helping us, Winnie.”

She nodded and said, “Mistress tell Winnie to help Master Draco and his miss.”

A warm sensation of hope coursed through Draco. His mother was helping him, his father seemed dead set against him. It was a strange tug in two directions: despair and the chance to escape.

“My father doesn’t know about this, does he?”

Winnie cringed and shook her head violently, almost careening off balance.

“Winnie, can you please bring us something hot to eat, perhaps some soup? Something hearty for Hermione and the baby.” The house elf gave a slight bow and popped away.

Draco lay back down facing Hermione who was dozing off. He ran a hand along her hip and she sighed.

“Hermione, love. Winnie is bringing something to eat. Do you feel up to it?” She hummed in response, snuggling further into his chest.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled. His own stomach grumbled after not having proper nourishment for at least a full day. The magic, her magic, thrummed through his veins, which made him feel as light as a cloud. As if he was flying on a broom.

****A few weeks later****

Draco had just finished taking a shower, the towel slung around his hips, his shaggy white-blonde hair dripping on the floor when he heard Hermione yelp in the bedroom. He ran into the other room, the towel almost slipping off, to see his mother and Winnie standing near the bed.

Hermione had been woken from a nap, her pregnancy showing slightly in the form of a bulge under Draco’s shirt she was wearing. Her hair was a bit frizzy from the pillow as she was now sitting up in a daze.

“Mother?” he gasped. His mother had been giving them unrestricted access to Winnie, but so far had not appeared herself.

Draco saw dark circles under her eyes, although the rest of her looked perfectly coiffed and neat as her usual self. She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, which showed signs of distress. His mother was clutching a handbag in gloved hands.

“Draco, son, you’re about to be summoned. I wanted to warn you in advance. Something is happening….” she trailed off and shook her head at nothing in particular.

“You don’t know what’s happening, mother?”

She gave another shake of her regal head and took Winnie’s hand. Draco’s stomach flipped in apprehension. He met Hermione’s shocked eyes.

He went over to the bed and sat down next to her. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as his arm snaked around her midsection. He waited a second before saying anything, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t come back in a coma again, please.”

“I’ll try not to, love.” It seemed that neither of them wanted to say it -- that they would be lucky if he came back at all, especially if the Death Eaters were mobilizing.

Draco kissed her temple. “I love you, Hermione.”

Her shoulders started to shake and he pulled her into his chest to sob into his clean skin. She clutched him, her nails digging into his back. During her crying, he’d heard a sniffling “I love you, too.”

After a little while, he reluctantly dressed. Hermione remained on the bed, staring at her hands in her lap. He sensed her emotions through their magical bond: fear, dread, and a hint of jealousy. Draco knew she wanted to leave the Manor, but there weren’t many options that didn’t involve being followed by the Death Eaters. They knew that if Winnie apparated them to a safe place, his father could beat her until she confessed where they were. It was too big of a risk with his mother and Hermione involved.

A loud knock on the door made his heart jump into his throat. “Coming!” he yelled.

Draco kissed Hermione soundly, tasting her salty tears. He gazed into her honey-brown eyes and promised, “I’ll come back for you, both of you.”

Her top lip quivered as he answered the door and left.

*******

Draco was excited and dreaded descending those stairs for the umpteenth time since the Dark Lord had taken over the Manor. And now, he had much more to lose. Before he thought that his life, his mother, his father, and his fortune had been the only things worth clinging to, but now he had love and a child on the way.

Draco felt like he’d aged years in the months since Hermione had been caught. While he didn’t necessarily feel ready to be a father, a provider, he knew it was inevitable and it terrified and made him so happy at the same time. There were butterflies being attacked by Cornish pixies in his stomach at the prospect of facing the Dark Lord again, at finding out whatever plan he had for destroying Potter’s side.

Everyone was assembled in the drawing room as per usual, but all the Death Eaters looked stoked. Their mouths, the only part exposed by their masks, were baring their teeth, and their wands were hoisted in the air like swords from the medieval days that Draco had read about once.

Voldemort had his army. Some of his soldiers were gathering around the floo but most seemed like they were poised for a mass exodus. A second later, Draco saw the Dark Lord disapparate along with this serpent in a wisp of black smoke. The rest of his lackeys followed suit. He didn't know where they were going.

He thought perhaps they'd just gathered everyone to see the fighters off, but then someone grabbed him by the robes forcefully and he felt the uneasy pull of side along apparition at his navel.

Landing in a patch of grass, Draco saw his mother and then realized where they were: Hogwarts.

*******

Hermione had tried to open the door with all the spells in her brain. Without a wand, all she could do was small healing spells -- cuts, bruises -- and a few repairing spells. She had nothing in her arsenal to escape a well-warded manor, which could have dark magic lurking anywhere.

Sweat beaded along her brow with the exertion. She had no way to direct the magic. Hermione could feel her power humming within her veins, her muscles, her nerves. Frustration distracted her from lingering nausea.

“Behave in there,” she reprimanded her womb. Hermione knew her child was barely the size of a pea, but she had never felt so alone with Draco gone.

She’d always had someone with her: her parents before Hogwarts, Harry and Ron at Hogwarts and when they were on the run, then Draco, and now their child growing in her womb. It didn’t matter that she might sound crazy talking to a pea-sized fetus, Hermione was alone, anyway.

Examining the room that she’d been living in for almost a week, Hermione felt like she was seeing everything for the first time. This was Draco’s bedroom. The bedroom of a boy who’d taunted her about her blood status, accused her of stealing her magic, and generally opposed her, Harry and Ron at all turns… Except when he hadn’t identified Harry.

Had he really been so unsure? Her stinging hex had disfigured Harry’s face, but it seemed more than that hesitation. That he hadn’t wanted the Death Eaters to recognize him. She knew Draco hadn’t wanted this war, no matter which side his family ended up on.

Her stomach lurched her out of her thoughts. She’d felt fear when Draco had left, but now there was a more foreign feeling of it, something intense yet farther away than her own emotions. Taking a deep breath, Hermione suddenly spied the tome that had helped restore Draco’s health. She felt a surge of hope as she called out, “Winnie!”

At first, when the elf didn’t appear within a minute, Hermione thought that she might not have the privilege to call her. The wide-eyed elf popped in and shifted foot to foot. Hermione smiled at her and resisted the urge to hug the creature.

*******

The Malfoys hung back as the Dark Lord and the rest of the favorite Death Eaters weakened the shield of wards and protection spells around Hogwarts. Draco warily watched the bridge, the only thing separating the Dark Lord from the castle and his classmates within. He’d been so removed from this world that it seemed like a fairytale or nightmare, depending on what years he focused on.

His mother thrust a wand in his hand without a word. He wasn’t sure whose it was, but it felt foreign yet powerful in his hand. His magic had been itching to be released, especially since Hermione had revived and replenished his core. It felt lighter, this new wand with his magic that lingered with his lover’s signature.

Draco didn’t know what to do, where to go. Why was he here? Simply because he was part of the Dark Lord’s posse? Perhaps the Dark Lord hoped the Malfoys would be killed off and their only heir would be the half-blood in Hermione’s womb. He wondered if he could apparate back to her now that he was free from the Manor’s wards.

He slunk off towards the trees, his parents distracted by the army of wizards attempting to take down the magical barrier. Harnessing his powers, Draco tried to apparate to no avail. There was a pull rooting him to the ground. Perhaps, since he was still technically a student, Hogwarts was still holding him there.

Suddenly, he was face-to-face with his father. Lucius Malfoy’s eyes were bloodshot and there were half-moons hanging heavily under his grey eyes. For once in his life, Draco felt more powerful than his father. He had something to live for other than self-preservation.

“Draco, what are you doing? Get over there," he snarled and pointed toward the group in front of the bridge.

His mother was shadowing his father looking apprehensive. Draco said nothing and followed wordlessly. For some reason, he felt like if he could make it to the castle, he'd find a way back to Hermione.


	11. The Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes into action with Winnie's help. Draco is cornered. No lemons (sorry).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this chapter up a week early, but I won't be able to post a chapter next week since I'll be on vacation. Thanks for reading! Sorry, there's no smut in this one, just some juicy plot!
> 
> Please let me know in the comments how you think the story is progressing.

“Miss called for Winnie?” The elf blinked at her.

“Thank you, Winnie! Do you know where Draco is?” she asked, her heart thumping in her ears.

The house elf looked more nervous than usual. One of her eyes was twitching and her feet shifted underneath her.

“If you can’t tell me, can you bring me to him?” The elf’s eyes grew even larger at that and she started whimpering.

“Miss shouldn’t ask that. Miss don’t go there. The snake lord could kill you and the little master!” Winnie whined hysterically. She wrung her hands so severely that Hermione thought she’d rub the skin to bloody shreds.

“Winnie, this is the only way to help me, the baby, and Draco! We have to stop this war. Will you help us?”

The house elf looked like she was on the verge of combustion. “Miss won’t have protection if Winnie takes her to the young master.”

Hermione keenly felt the absence of her wand. Her fingers itched to hold her vine wood with dragon heartstring. It was the symbol of her officially becoming a witch, only second to her Hogwarts acceptance letter.

“You’re right, Winnie. Have you seen any wands locked away somewhere in the manor?”

The elf started to tremble as she looked torn between helping Hermione and avoiding punishment. She nodded slightly, which would have been imperceptible on a human, but her large eyes and small neck made it impossible to hide.

“Where--” she tried to ask as the elf grabbed her hand and popped them somewhere in the manor.

It was dark, only flickering of a few floating candles lit the hallway in one of the many wings of the manor. Hermione’s skin crawled as she sensed the dark magic resonating around her. This must be where Voldemort and his followers were lodged during their stay. The manor appeared quiet, but Hermione was able to wandlessly cast a silencing spell on her feet.   
Winnie crept quietly by her side and led them to a door to their left. Her flesh prickled making her shiver. Hermione heard movement behind one of the other doors and froze. Blood rushed into her ears and she had to take a second to breathe. While she normally thrived on adrenaline, there was another outlying source of fear amplifying hers.

The house elf was a few steps ahead of her and was attempting to open the door using her magic to soundlessly open the door. There was a slight creak as it opened, but the elf ushered Hermione inside and closed it with quiet precision. She could hear the floor creaking somewhere nearby, but she could tell that it wasn’t in the hallway.

The room, as much as Hermione could make out in the darkness, was a guest bedroom. It didn’t look lived in, but she couldn’t see much. As they approached a large chest at the foot of the large four poster bed, the scar on her arm prickled.

“Miss ready?” Winnie whispered in her high-pitched voice.

Hermione nodded, expecting her to unlock the chest. Instead, Winnie vanished the chest and the contents appeared on the floor. She managed to snag a wand from the pile amongst other random valuables that the Death Eaters must have taken off their prisoners.

The chest reappeared and Hermione felt more comfortable with a wand in her hand. It felt somewhat familiar. It most likely had a similar composition to her own, but it was definitely longer by a few inches.

She cast a silencing charm on the door to test it out. When she carefully turned the knob and pulled it open, there was no creak. Hermione released a breath that she’d been holding. The elf snuck around her to move them out of the dark wards of the room. That must be why the Winnie had to vanish the chest instead of unlocking it, she thought.

They were almost out of range when someone started shrieking. Hermione whipped around to see one of the portraits had woken up. She hadn’t noticed it before, but it was definitely a Malfoy relative because it was screaming “FILTHY MUDBLOOD SCUM STOLE A WAND! MUDBLOOD FILTH IN THE PURE HOUSE OF MALFOY!”

A door opened just across from where Hermione stood rooted to the spot. She couldn’t hear Winnie over the yelling of the portrait and she saw a giant figure appear in the hallway. Her jaw dropped and she stood petrified.

Greyback. The werewolf gazed at her with instant recognition, bloodlust in his inhuman eyes. He’d looked at her like that before when she, Harry and Ron had been captured by snatchers. She resisted the urge to vomit as he came towards her like a wolf sneaking up on its prey.

Hermione stumbled backward, her gut twisting. Her first thought was of the baby as she scooted away from him, unable to find her feet yet.

As his shadow began to loom over her, Hermione suddenly found herself in a new place. She gazed around, her heart still pounding. Not a new place: Hogwarts. Specifically, right in front of the statue leading to the headmaster’s office.

“Miss okay?” Winnie piped up nervously.

“Yes, Winnie. Thank you so much for all that you’ve done. I won’t forget it!” She beamed at the elf. “Is Draco here?”

The elf nodded with wide eyes. There was a throbbing in her chest that had started at the manor, but now it was more pronounced. It wasn’t a bad throbbing, sort of like another heartbeat. She put a hand to her chest to feel it and one cradled her very small bump. Now all she had to do was find Draco in the giant castle.

After Winnie disappeared, Hermione realized to her complete mortification that she had forgotten she had a wand when Greyback had advanced. Shaking her head, she took a second to think in the empty corridor.

She paced for a minute and realized she was still in slippers and dressed in a nightgown. Relishing the feel of the wand in her hand, Hermione transfigured her slippers into trainers and the nightgown into stretchy pants and a sweatshirt, a similar outfit to what she’d been wearing when she’d been taken prisoner.

She had to find Draco. Casting a Patronus, she commanded the otter to find him, to tell him and only him that she was looking for him. Hermione knew he’d be furious that she followed him, but they were safer together. Perhaps, they’d be able to find other students to help them.

Hermione followed the otter down the corridor to her left and realized that it was heading up to the seventh floor to the Room of Requirement. As she neared where the room would appear, she saw a figure with a familiar head of white-blonde hair standing still and facing into the hallway. His attention was captured by something and when she was closer, Hermione could hear voices.

She came to a stop and hid behind a suit of armor where she could hear what was being said. Her heart leaped at knowing he was alive and the throbbing in her chest was now practically thumping. It must be their magical bond, Hermione thought, from when she’d healed him. She tuned back into the conversation five meters from her.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” a male voice spat. Hermione gasped as she recognized it.

“Potter, I don’t want any trouble, I came here--”

“To let more Death Eaters into the castle like you did before?” Ron chimed in.

“Wait… is that an otter?” Harry’s voice said in surprise.

Hermione subconscious had moved from her hiding place and started walking toward the group of boys.

***

Draco looked to where the Patronus had come from and his jaw dropped when he saw her appear from the shadows like a ghost. At first, he thought he must be seeing things, seeing what he both wanted to see the most and the least, especially with the battle raging on the grounds.

“Her-Hermione?” he stuttered.

“Draco,” she said, smiling.

Potter and Weasley must have also been gaping at their friend materializing in front of them. She looked at the pair of Gryffindors with the same smile she’d given him and he was immediately jealous. Would she abandon him in their favor?

Potter and Weasley’s wands were still directed at him. The two must have been stunned because they still hadn’t said anything. To his surprise, Hermione drew him into a fierce hug, her hand brushing the back of his neck as she clung to him. Draco could feel the bond in his chest hum with warmth at her touch.

“What are you doing, ‘Mione?” the ginger said, his voice back.

Hermione let him go to his disappointment to face her friends but laced their fingers together in her non-wand hand. Such a brilliant witch, he smirked to himself as he saw the wand in her hand.

“Draco and I have been through a lot together. He’s the reason I was able to survive as a prisoner. He’s protected me and he’s no longer a Death Eater,” she explained.

The two witless wonders stared at her. “How do we know he hasn’t _imperiused_ you?” the Weasel asserted, his face reddening by the second. Draco always thought Weasley and Hermione had a secret crush on one another but it seemed it was unrequited now, at least he dared to hope.

“Ronald! Are you even paying attention? I have a wand. I could have broken the curse by now. Now, will you please put your wands down so I can hug you?” she reprimanded.

The two Gryffindors still looked unsure but they lowered their wands. He mourned the loss of her small hand as she ran over and embraced her friends. They wrapped their arms possessively around her and his chest burned where their magical bond sat. Draco had been so flabbergasted that Hermione had appeared that he hadn’t even thought about how she got there and why she was there.

She was carrying their child! They were in a warzone, but perhaps she didn’t know that information. Had she come for him? Now that she’d escaped the manor, would she forget about him and run off with the Chosen one and the redheaded oaf? Draco flexed his grip on the wand his mother had given him.

He overheard Potter say something about a diadem. The three were conspiring in murmurs. His stomach sank even further.

“I hate to break up this lovely reunion, but can I speak to you, Hermione? Alone?” He felt disgusted with himself for grousing.

Her honey-brown eyes, bright with adrenaline, found his. Hermione thrived on this action and problem-solving and all he’d been able to do for her was keep her locked away from what she loved. And yet, she said she loved him.

The lesser two of the trio looked peeved, but Hermione acquiesced and trotted over to him, her curls bouncing freely around her shoulders. He took her by the hand around the corner from whence she appeared.

“What is it, Draco?” she asked gently. She was slightly out of breath, her cheeks pink.

Draco wanted to ask about how she got there, how she got a wand, what she was thinking showing up in the heat of the battle, but all that came out was, “Are you going to let me in on whatever you three were whispering about?”

She looked a little embarrassed for leaving him out. “Oh, yes, sorry about that. It’s kind of our habit to huddle up like that.”

He nodded numbly. “Those two don’t seem too keen to have me around.”

She laughed, the tinkling laugh he loved. “Erm, yeah, but they don’t know you like I do. I’ll convince them. It’ll just take a little time for them to trust you.” The bond throbbed happily in his chest when she touched his face lightly.

He couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her. All he wanted to do was snog the living daylights out of her, forget about the war and Potter and Weasley, and shag her up against the castle wall. Hermione even moaned lightly into his mouth as his tongue greeted hers. Her body molded perfectly to his and if she hadn’t pulled back to rest her forehead on his, he would have tried to whisk her away into the Room of Requirement to escape from everything else.

“Do you feel that?” she asked and put his hand over her left breast.

“I feel you in here,” he answered, grinning as he moved her hand to his chest. “You feel me too. It’s part of our bond, our shared magic.” Hermione had the audacity to blush prettily.

Draco leaned in to kiss her again when they heard a foreign voice yell “ _expelliarmus_!”


	12. The Diadem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle comes to our main characters and they seek the diadem.

Hermione glanced back to where Harry and Ron had been and saw Ron scrambling for his wand that had flown feet away. A Death Eater and two Slytherin students had joined them in the seventh-floor corridor. She broke away from Draco to run to the aid of her best friends.

She was held back, however, by Draco’s hand around her wrist. Hermione’s body had been whiplashed towards him and she stared, daring him to tell her she couldn’t go, she should stay out of the action. She’d been on the sidelines for too long.

“Let’s do this together, Hermione. I want to prove to them that I’m on your side.” She took his hand and squeezed in relief and gratitude. Hermione fought the tears springing to her eyes -- darn pregnancy hormones!

They joined the fray and she recognized Crabbe and Goyle as the students and perhaps one of their fathers was the masked Death Eater. Draco disarmed one of his former henchmen and put him in a body bind. Harry had been dueling the Death Eater while Ron struggled to duel Crabbe.

Hermione helped Harry with the adult wizard and flung a few quick defensive spells that Harry hadn’t braced himself for. Suddenly, it was all four of them dueling with the Death Eater. She saw Crabbe and Goyle both on the ground wriggling like worms against their magical binds. Hermione felt Draco’s surge of accomplishment through their bond and knew he’d helped Ron.

Unfortunately, with only defensive spells, the four were at a stalemate with the Death Eater. Hermione spotted a broom cupboard out of the corner of her eye and went into action. She opened the small room with a spell and yelled, “body bind him, Draco, now!”

Since Harry and Ron had aimed a disarming spell and a stinging hex, the dark wizard wasn’t prepared for Draco’s spell and successfully hit him. Now, all three dark wizards were writhing on the floor. Hermione levitated each into the broom cupboard. She locked it after taking their wands.

Her friends smiled at her and Draco affectionately tugged at her through the bond. Hermione felt triumphant but then she was hurled backward by a spell and her vision of her friends and lover turned to black.

***

Draco’s heart and stomach plummeted at the sight of Hermione flying backward, her body like a ragdoll against the power of the spell. He was nearly powerless to stop her careening towards the stone floor. At the last second, he threw out a cushioning charm at the spot where he anticipated her landing. It had been another Death Eater who’d cast the spell on Hermione.

“ _Impedimenta!_ ” he screamed at who he thought might be Rosier beneath the mask and rushed toward Hermione.

Ron had beaten him to her, though. He was stroking her face, trying to wake her up. She’d most likely hit her head in the fall at the force the spell sent her flying. Draco’s cushioning charm could only do so much to break her fall. His heart and stomach lurched and tried to feel for their bond in his chest. It was still there and he sighed.

The redhead saw him staring and glared. “Oi! Malfoy, help Harry!”

Draco frowned and turned to where Potter was fending off Rosier. His mask had come off and Draco recognized him from the sneer and limp black hair like wet seaweed. He knew that the Weasel cared about Hermione, so even though his jealousy had spiked, he knew the only way to get through this was to fight off her attacker.

Rosier had tried to body bind Potter, but the bespectacled boy blocked it and sent a disarming spell toward the Death Eater. Draco took advantage of his split-second focus on Potter to _confund_ him. Rosier looked around, dazed and confused. Draco immobilized him just like the others and shoved him in the cupboard saying “ _colloportus_ ” to lock them in.

Turning back to where Ron and Hermione were, Draco panicked in seeing that they’d disappeared. Potter didn’t seem to be phased and started walking to where they’d been.

“Nice spellwork, Malfoy,” the Gryffindor commented as he paced in front of the wall. A door appeared and opened in front of him.

Draco had almost forgotten about the Room of Requirement. He’d tried to block his entire sixth year at Hogwarts out of his mind, his tireless hours toiling over the vanishing cabinet all but a nightmare. His adrenaline had tamped down his jealousy over Ron handling his witch in her incapacitated state, but now he tried to breathe as he saw her lying on a threadbare couch that the Room had conjured.

As he approached her, she could hear her mumbling something that had Weasley glancing at him in surprise. “Draco,” she murmured. The redhead frowned, brows caving downward in puzzlement.

“I’m here, Hermione,” Draco said from her side and grabbed her hand. She was a bit cold but their bond felt a little stronger now.

He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when she blinked and squinted up at him. “Where…?”

“We’re in the Room of Requirement. You’re safe, love,” he said calmly. Potter and Weasley were staring at him as if he’d spontaneously turned into a hippogriff.

“Is… is it okay?” Hermione asked, wincing as she brought their linked hands over her stomach.

Draco tried to keep the worry from his face. He didn’t know if her fall had done anything to the baby growing inside her.

“You’re going to be fine, Hermione,” he tried to reassure her. “Just rest here for a second.” Draco turned to the witless wonders.

“Why are we here, Potter?” he asked, trying to keep the sneer from his voice.

The dark-haired boy examined him. “We have to find… something.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Have you seen this place? Whatever it is could be anywhere. No use keeping it from me because you’ll need my help. I’ve been here… perhaps three hundred times and have seen almost everything here.”

“Right, Malfoy,” Weasley scoffed. “We know what you were doing here. Letting your Death Eater scum friends into the castle!”

Draco clenched his teeth. “You don’t understand,” he tried to explain.

“Save it, wanker. You’ve got a Dark Mark, right?” Draco stared at the ginger git. “That’s all I need to know, Malfoy.”

“Ron, if we’re going to find the diadem we’re going to need his help with Hermione out for the count,” Scar Head reasoned.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise at Potter’s support. “Don’t get any ideas, Malfoy. I still don’t trust you, but if Hermione said you’re willing to help us, then we’ll take what we can get. Just know that if you betray us or Hermione, I’m not afraid to curse you like I did before.”

Light from one of the torches glinted off his glasses maliciously. Draco barely remembered anything after Potter had cursed him with Snape’s made up spell. It was excruciating pain erupting within him, like fiendfyre exploding from his chest and down all of his nerves.

He nodded, a little too sick at the memory to say anything. Turning down a row of bureaus, Draco started looking.

“Wait, Malfoy! You don’t know what you’re even looking for.”

“You said it was a diadem, Potter. I know what it is!” he snarled and turned back on his heel.

“It’s Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. If you find it, Ron has something that can destroy it.”

As Draco wandered through the piles of lost furniture and belongings, he started to flashback to his time when he was fixing the vanishing cabinet in sixth year. The pressure from the Dark Lord and his father, the threat of his mother’s life, his inability for months to repair the dark magic object -- all came rushing back to him. It could have knocked the breath from his lungs, but he closed his eyes, using the Occlumency that his godfather and aunt taught him. Draco tried to push thoughts of Bellatrix from his mind as well. She’d tortured the witch he’d come to love. He would never let her or anyone hurt Hermione again. Except, he hadn’t been quick enough this time. Somehow, he always failed to protect those he loved.

He thought that she would probably only have a concussion. He’d had plenty of those from Quidditch over the years. They weren’t life-threatening, really. It still worried him, for her safety as well as his child’s growing in her womb.

A cry of “Accio diadem!” broke him from his dizzying reverie. Draco snorted at the Weasel’s weak attempt to find the object.

He realized that he didn’t even know why they wanted this diadem. Why would they want to destroy it? They were in the middle of a bloody war!

Wandering helped him refocus and he couldn’t even hear the other boys from where he was. Draco felt like hours had passed since they started searching. Perhaps it was so. Did it matter? He was about to give up and go back to check on Hermione when he saw something blue sparkling in the torchlight.

Just behind a birdcage, he saw an ugly statue wearing the diadem with the telltale blue sapphire in the middle. Draco climbed onto a desk and reached for the small crown. Upon wrapping his fingers around the metal, he screamed from the pain.

***

Hermione woke up to the sound of Draco’s wailing, her headache pounding in a rhythm that made it feel like a dream. Her brain felt like it was too big for her skull. She tried to sit up, but the room started to spin and her stomach rebelled.

After cleaning up her sick with a quick spell, Hermione saw Harry, Ron, and Draco round a corner of stacked chairs. The platinum blonde looked deathly pale between her two best friends who were supporting him under the arms.

“We've got the diadem, 'Mione!" Ron called cheerfully.

She gave them as big of a smile as she could muster in her state. They deposited Draco next to her and he practically slumped against her. Hermione's distress doubled.

“What…” she cleared her throat. "What happened to him?”

Ron shrugged but Harry explained, “He touched the diadem and he started screaming bloody murder. Only stopped when Ron took it from him.”

Hermione examined Draco, trying to push back the vertigo threatening to consume her. He was cradling his arm, his rolled-up sleeve exposing part of the Dark Mark. She cast a powerful cooling charm on his forearm and listened to him sigh.

“It's the dark magic in the horcrux interacting with his mark,” she explained. Although she knew it was more complicated than that. It had to do with her magic still dwelling and co-mingling with his core. It was rejecting the darkness of both the mark and the horcrux, but she couldn't tell that to Harry and Ron, not yet at least.

They had one of the last horcruxes and the means to destroy it. That’s what mattered right now. One step closer to defeating Voldemort, one step closer to freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Sorry about the Ron and Harry bashing! But it’s Draco’s point of view and it’s completely in character for him to dislike them. Also, this chapter is assuming that Ron went by himself or even with Harry’s help to find the basilisk fang since Hermione doesn’t come in until after he gets the fang.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	13. The Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco doubts himself while Harry and Ron doubt him. Hermione attempts to piece her life back together.

Draco’s pain subsided at Hermione’s touch. He’d barely been coherent until she touched him. Perhaps, it had to do with the combination of their magic, her proximity overpowering the darkness of the mark. He felt Potter and Weasley’s suspicious eyes on him.

“We should take care of that,” Hermione continued, her bossy nature kicking in. The Weasel held up the diadem and the fang like a caveman.

Draco slowly got to his feet and volunteered, “I’ll destroy the bloody thing.” He held his hand out for the fang and Weasley’s eyes were drawn back to the darkness of the mark against his pale skin.

“Alright, Malfoy?” Potter eyed him with concern. Draco nodded and gestured again. Weasley reluctantly handed the basilisk fang over.

“Can you put the diadem on that desk over there?” he asked. The fang felt foreign yet powerful in his hand. His arm was still quivering from the magical fight within his body.

Weasley stomped over to the desk and begrudgingly put the diadem down. Draco stalked over to the desk once the redhead was clear. He raised the fang above his head in both hands and prepared for a mighty strike when an image appeared before him.

It was Hermione hovering above him with a brown curly-headed baby cradled in one hand and her wand brandished in front of her and pointed towards him. She had fire in her eyes like she had in the battle today.

Tears rimmed his eyes at the sight of their baby. He hoped he had his eyes. Then, a redhead appeared behind Hermione. It was Weasley who placed a kiss on the babe’s head and then on Hermione’s cheek.

_“You have to let me go, let us go, Draco. You’ll never be a good father. You’ll be just like Lucius. You were on the losing side until you defected. You made the wrong choices,”_ she said.

His knees were weak. He was weak. He would never make her happy. His arms shook and his vision blurred with tears.

“It’s not real, Draco,” the real Hermione whispered in his ear. “Destroy the diadem, do it for our son’s future.”

Strengthening his grip, he smashed the fang down on the small crown, putting all his anger in his past and hope for his future into the force. The diadem shattered, a dark red substance leaking out over the wooden surface. It was now powerless, dark artifact no longer.

Hermione surrounded him in her warm arms. He wanted to collapse into her. He wanted to bury himself physically and emotionally into her to feel the life growing within her.

“How--how did you know? Could you see it?” he sniffled.

“No, I couldn’t see it, Draco. It was Voldemort’s dark soul trying to intimidate you into submission. I’m here to support you. We’re on the same side, we both want to make it through this war alive.” She kissed the tears from his cheeks. It was like they were back in Draco’s, in their own little world again.

He let the relief wash through him. His fears, about Hermione at least, had been assuaged. There was still a war being waged beyond the doors.

***

“Erm, Hermione…? The room is changing.” She looked over to where Harry and Ron were standing and saw that the room had started to morph around them. Hermione started to recognize it slowly but surely. She went beet red. It was Draco’s bedroom now.

Harry and Ron were standing near the bathroom door and she and Draco were huddled by the side of the bed now. Her stomach flipped. How was she going to explain this to her best friends?

“I’m not sure where we are…” she said, trying to look confused. Draco glanced up and gave her a panicked look. “It doesn’t matter. We now only have one more horcrux to destroy.”

An explosion deafened them from outside, somewhere in the castle. The boys headed for the door, but Hermione cried out, “Stop!” The blonde, redhead, and brunette halted to look at her in concern.

“We have to have a plan before we go out there. We know Nagini is the last horcrux. Can you see where he is, Harry?”

Draco stared gaping at her like she’d grown a second head. Hermione felt torn between the person she was with her best friends and the person she was with him. She gathered herself while Harry tested his strange connection to Voldemort. No longer a prisoner, she felt free, she wanted to contribute to defeating the madman that ruined her life and was probably killing many others. At the same time, Hermione felt protective of her relationship with Draco and the life within her womb. Her head spun and she had to sit on the bed for a minute.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked sitting down beside her.

She nodded but didn’t look at him, she couldn’t or she wouldn’t gain her bearings. “I think it’s just from falling. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him,” Draco murmured, his voice thick with apology. He slung an arm around her, his hand resting on her hip. She felt him kiss her temple gently and smiled at the comforting gesture.

When Hermione opened her eyes, her gaze met Ron’s fury. “Oi!” he said, looking ready to punch Draco. Hermione stood and disentangled herself from his embrace.

“I’m sorry, not in front of them, not before I can explain,” she whispered to Draco. He gave her a cursory nod and she could see him closing off himself from her. She felt it in their bond, too. Her heart clenched at the thought of losing him to all this confusion.

Harry doubled over and gasped, “He’s… he’s in the Shrieking Shack… with Malfoy’s father.” Everyone looked at Draco and Hermione’s stomach roils.

“Is Nagini there, Harry?” she asked, trying to change the subject. Harry only nodded, his and Ron’s glares still focused on the blonde.

“How can we trust him, ‘Mione?” Ron said vehemently. His wand was in hand, his fist going white. “His father’s Voldemort’s closest follower. How can you trust him when they kept you prisoner, tortured you and who knows what---”

“Stop, Ronald. Draco was a bully and a prat, sure, but he was never evil! I know him better now, we were _both_ prisoners in the manor. He lied to protect me. I care for him, more than you’ll ever know. He is not his father. He destroyed a horcrux!” Hermione knew she was babbling, but she had to make them understand, at least enough to trust him until this was all over.

“You don’t have to like me, you just have to trust me not to turn on you,” Draco said coldly, leveling their stares. “I will do anything for Hermione’s safety, you have to understand that.”

Harry and Ron still looked dubious, but each of them grumbled a “fine.”

“Let’s go kill a snake!” Hermione tried to sound cheerful, but it came out sardonic.

Harry and Ron exited first, but Hermione hung back for Draco. She stood her ground, blocking him from leaving. His eyes were a stony grey instead of the pools of silver she was used to seeing.

Hermione put a hand on his jaw, cradling it. “I love you, Draco Malfoy. That hasn’t changed.” His irises started to melt and she pressed her lips to his. He yielded immediately and pressed her against the door. She sighed into his mouth and keened when he nipped his way down her neck. Her nipples hardened at the contact of his muscled chest. She pressed her hips into his and heard him groan into her collarbone.

“I love you too, you brilliant, feisty, brave witch.” His hand palmed her breast and she gasped.

“Draco... We have to go!” She didn’t push him off, though. Hermione felt reluctant to leave his embrace, leave the bedroom she had called home that the Room of Requirement had provided them.

Draco dropped her breast but sank to his knees to kiss her abdomen. “We will win this war for you, little one.” She swore she felt the fetus move, though it was way too early for that. “My son seems to be growing fast in there,” he joked as he stood.

Hermione rolled her eyes before opening the door to the war beyond it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm trying to keep the order of events in the Battle of Hogwarts as true to the book as I can. Forgive me if I distort timing of events here and there. If I had to guess, I think I will definitely reach the end by 20 chapters, but I don't want to limit myself. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you're enjoying (or not enjoying) this story!


	14. The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Hogwarts ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a week late! I've been house hunting and dealing with car repairs for the last few weeks, but hopefully it'll all be resolved and back to normal in a few days. I hope you enjoy the read and leave comments on how you think things are progressing, please!

Everything seemed to happen in flashes of spells and curses. One minute, Draco saw one of the Weasley twins lying in the rubble and Hermione was trying to pull Ron away to stick to their mission. The next minute, near the Whomping Willow, the four of them were fighting off a Death Eater who Draco didn’t recognize.

He had to admit that Potter, Hermione, and even Weasley were decent at spellcasting and dueling. Had he been alone, Draco wasn’t sure he would have been able to fend off the curses streaming from the masked figure. And then, quite suddenly they were surrounded by dementors. Luckily, since he couldn’t cast a Patronus, they had some help from Looney Lovegood and Finnegan.

The dementors were swarming and billowing away in large wafts of black smoke. Draco had never felt so helpless and so thankful to be surrounded by what Hermione had described to him during their imprisonment as members from “Dumbledore’s Army.” Before he knew it, he was being tugged along by a persistent Hermione toward the base of the Whomping Willow.

Draco was literally going down the rabbit hole along with the Gryffindor trio. As he helped Hermione up, ensuring she was okay, he had the chance to smell her hair. She must have bathed before he’d left the manor because he could still smell the floral of the shampoo and the sweetness that was all her own. It was a small comfort in the midst of the discord.

She gave him a small smile, her amber eyes bright with excitement and fear before leading him up to the Shack. He stumbled, the pain in his forearm stopping them in their tracks.

"Draco," Hermione whispered."What's wrong?"

"He's angry… betrayed," he managed to grit out.

The pain subsided after a moment. Hermione was examining him with concern. Draco righted himself.

"I'm fine now, love. We should really go back to help the others."

Hermione bit her lip, her gaze flickering to where they were heading up to the shack and back to him. She absently rubbed her hand over her stomach. Something primal stirred in him.

"We could stay--"

"Draco!" she blurted out. "What happens after the battle? If we win?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, tasting the dampness of the earth around him. His brain was foggy from he adrenaline. She'd asked the exact question he was both afraid and optimistic to answer for himself.

"What do you think will happen?" he countered.

Draco saw her mind working. His stomach clenched. He needed to know but didn't want to at the same time.

“I know what I want to happen,” she answered in a low voice, her eyes not meeting his. Tucking a finger under her chin, he lifted her warm brown eyes to his. She took his hand and pressed it to her belly, somewhat protruding as he’d felt earlier. “We will have this child, we will love him or her, and teach--”

“Him,” Draco interrupted her confidently. “We’ll teach him that hate drove a wedge between us as children but that love created him. We won’t make the same mistakes as my parents.”

Their lips met and he could feel the tears on her cheeks as he tried to kiss them away. Hermione moaned softly into his mouth as his arms wrapped around her, pressing her to him like a lifeline. Draco lifted her up for a second as they kissed passionately and then set her down again.

“I love you, Hermione. I want to protect you and our son. Tell me how to do that, please,” he almost begged.

“Your love and your courage is enough, Draco. I know you’ll do the right thing, you’ll do what you need to do.”

Hermione laced her fingers in his and they ascended into the Shrieking Shack. They find Harry bent over a dark figure, prostrate on the shabby floor.

“Sn-Snape?” Draco stuttered as he sees his godfather dying of what looks like snake bites. Nagini.

Potter looked solemnly at them. “Hermione… do you?” She produced a flask from nowhere.

Now Draco noticed the silvery substance hovering around Snape’s head; they were memories. Potter collected them in the flask and he could feel Hermione shaking against him. While he’d never been too close with his godfather, Draco felt protective.

“What are you going to do with those, Potter?” he asked eyeing the flask.

“Snape said he wanted me to look at them. It had something to do with my parents and likely Voldemort.”

Draco nodded and took one last look at his deceased godfather. The wizard had done so much for him that he couldn’t see until now. Snape had taken the Unbreakable Vow for him and carried out the gruesome task of killing Dumbledore. He followed Hermione out of the shack alongside Potter.

They were almost back to the castle, Draco’s stomach twisting at the thought of facing the people and students on Potter’s side, when Voldemort announced an hour reprieve. The Dark Lord wanted Potter to meet him in the Forbidden Forest before the hour was up. The only comfort was Hermione’s arm that was threaded through his as she steered him through the rubble of the Great Hall.

Weary stares and disgusted lips greeted him from the surviving Hogwarts students and Order of the Phoenix members. Hermione had to disentangle herself from him in order to hug the various Weasleys who expressed relief over her reappearance. Mrs. Weasley sobbed into her shoulder after explaining that Fred was dead.

Draco’s hand clenched around his wand nearly unable to contain himself at the negative attention he was receiving behind Hermione’s back. He knew he and his father had given them grief and insults over the years, but how could he explain away all the ill between them? She finally stepped back from her foster family and looped her arm in his again.

“Draco saved me at the manor,” she explained to them and he almost scoffed at it. In his eyes, she’d saved them both. While it wasn’t like a Malfoy to be humble, he couldn’t take the sole credit for this situation. “If it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t be standing here before you. He’s more than proved his allegiance to the Order if you’ll take my word for it.”

He received a small nod from Mrs. Weasley, but the rest of the red-headed bunch stood there in disbelief. Ron, his eyes puffy, grumbled something to his family. His mother reprimanded him with, “Don’t mumble, Ronald!”

“Malfoy helped us destroy the horcrux,” he said begrudgingly. Hermione squeezed Draco’s hand and he knew she’d have a watery smile on her face if he looked at her.

Mr. Weasley seemed to soften. “Thank you, son. We trust you, Hermione and we’re so glad you’re alive. And thank you, Draco for keeping Hermione safe.”

Draco could tell that it would take a lot for them to trust him, but he felt a few of the knots loosen in his stomach. He didn’t know how the Weasleys would feel when they found out about Hermione’s pregnancy and the circumstances that led to it. The awkward spell was momentarily broken by the boy of the hour rushing past them through the castle.

“Harry?” Hermione breathed as her friend dashed out of the Great Hall. Draco gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Where is he going?”

“I’m sure he needs to be alone before he faces the Da--Voldemort,” Draco surmised.

Hermione shook her head in disapproval. “He always thinks he has to do this alone. We should go--”

“No, Hermione. Leave him be. He has to do this alone now.” He could tell she was struggling with this, with not being able to do anything for her friends.

Her brown eyes threatened to convince him to let her go. And then she winced.

***

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked.

“Nothing…” Then she hissed in pain again. A bolt of uncomfortable pressure seized her across her belly. “Bathroom.”

He put an arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the Great Hall while the Weasleys were distracted. Hermione tried to breathe through it, but it wasn’t until she was sitting on one of the benches where they stopped to rest that she felt a little better.

“Is it the baby?” he asked tentatively, silver eyes glinting with concern.

Hermione lifted her shirt and saw something was definitely not right. “Earlier, you said it seemed like he was growing fast, I didn’t think anything of it… but now I see you’re right.” Her distended belly looked at least a month or two farther along that it had that morning.

“How?” Draco breathed. Hermione shook her head. She knew information on basic pregnancies, but not magical ones.

“You have to get Mrs. Weasley here, Draco. We have to ask her about this.”


	15. A Delicate Matter

Draco could hear the blood pumping in his ears and the throbbing of their bond, both of their anxieties at the forefront. Not only did he have to confront the Weasleys earlier, but now he had to expose his and Hermione’s secret to the matriarch. What would she think of him, of them? Draco already knew there was no love lost between the Weasley and Malfoy families.

Before he left her, he kissed Hermione’s forehead and ran a hand over her unruly curls. Draco nearly broke out into a run, but settled for a fast walk, as fast as his long legs would carry him through the chaos in the Great Hall. It seemed like there was a shock of red hair everywhere he looked, but he finally saw the shorter head of Mrs. Weasley. She was bent over a small girl, perhaps a second year, and was healing a few curse wounds on her arms and legs.

“Right as rain again, dearie!” Mrs. Weasley stood up and helped the girl to her feet. “Now, go up to the dormitories with the rest of the students. Ginny will take you there.”

The Weaslette didn’t look too thrilled about that, but took the girl’s hand and led her out of the Great Hall. She glared at him as she walked away.

“Draco? Did you need something?” Mrs. Weasley asked in her sing-song voice. She looked concerned… about him. Why?

He cleared his throat, nearly unable to get the words out. “Hermione needs your help, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Where is she?” she asked, look around the expansive room.

“She’s erm, she’s outside the Great Hall. It’s a delicate matter, you see…” The woman’s eyes widened. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, but they held wisdom and clarity that he and Hermione desperately needed.

She gave him a short nod to lead the way.

If he hadn’t known where Hermione was, he’d have almost missed her. His smart witch must have cast a notice-me-not spell on herself with all the students and others running around the castle. She canceled the spell and Mrs. Weasley rushed over to embrace her.

“What’s the matter, my child?”

Hermione’s eyes met his and they were filled with emotion, the same emotion swirling between their bond. He saw her take a deep breath before she started with, “Well, you see, it has to do with what happened at Malfoy Manor…”

Both women were in tears as Hermione finished the story of the preceding months’ events. Draco found himself tearing up at parts, but he knew he had to face the truth. He had to face what they’d been through, especially from her point of view, and what the future held for them.

“I’ve been having pain, Mrs. Weasley. It feels like growing pains and we noticed that the baby seems to be growing much faster than expected. I’m only about a month in, but my bump is much bigger than that stage.”

Mrs. Weasley had been nodding along. She cast a few spells over Hermione that Draco had never heard before, being an only child, but the Weasley woman was well-versed in childbearing and pregnancy from her numerous offspring. He could feel Hermione’s anxiety thrumming in time with his own.

“My dear, it does appear that your pregnancy is much more advanced than you said even though you said conception could have been at the earliest a month ago. The baby is about twelve weeks along now and if you said it’s been rapidly growing, then that explains your pain. Your body is working overtime to accommodate something that it’s not yet ready for. According to my tests, the babe is perfectly healthy, but the one question is why is this happening?”

Hermione looked like she was deep in thought for a minute. “Mrs. Weasley, what do you know about alternative healing methods?”

The redhead looked confused. “You see, we didn’t have wands at the manor and Draco fell into a coma from his magic being drained and the house elf gave me a book on alternative healing methods….” His beautiful witch had the audacity to blush at the end of her sentence.

Mrs. Weasley looked from her to Draco and she smiled in understanding.

“We formed a bond,” Draco added. “She restored my magic and some of hers stayed within me.” He took her small hand in his.

“In that case, my dears, your shared magic is accelerating the growth of your baby. Because you extended your magic to Draco, Hermione, while your baby was in its earliest development, you passed some of that extra magic to the fetus. It could also be the stress of the war. Magic is unpredictable sometimes, so you’re lucky that your magic and Draco’s were compatible. This is not usual in magical pregnancy, but I have heard of a few outlying cases in my time of birthing children.”

Hermione squeezed his hand at learning this new information. “What does that mean for the future of our baby?” he asked, dread slowly encroaching on the relief that had flooded his system after the matriarch’s reassurance.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and Draco’s heart sunk. He could feel Hermione’s fear as well.

“Based on the accelerated state of the pregnancy, the baby could be born in as early as a week from now and as little as a month, we simply don’t know how fast it will grow. That growth rate would best be assessed by a healer,” the older woman explained.

“Is there anything we can do in the meantime that will ease Hermione’s pain with the growth spurts?”

“It’s okay, Draco, I was more worried about the baby than my own pain,” she said, trying to wave it all off. He shook his head at that; he would do anything in his power to make sure she was never hurt again.

“I can’t give you anything that will lessen the pain as it might affect the baby, but it will be best for Hermione to rest in her condition and be out of a warzone,” Mrs. Weasley said in her motherly tone.

“But what about Harry? And Voldemort? We have to help--”

Mrs. Weasley managed to hush her and urged Hermione to sit again. “My dear, it seems to me that we are past the point of helping Harry. This is something that he must do himself. He knows that you will support him and would face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by his side if you could. Just like you will have to take care of yourself and your child. Luckily, you have Draco by your side. I know he will protect his family at all costs.”

Draco felt a surge of both guilt and pride at Mrs. Weasley’s words as the ginger witch leveled her wisened eyes at him. He nodded with conviction.

“Right then, you two. You will have to get to Hogsmeade and use the floo at the Hog’s Head. The safest place will be Shell Cottage, just say the words clearly.” Draco nearly didn’t comprehend a word she said until thinking everything over.

His hand was being crushed a second later by a wincing Hermione, her eye screwed shut at the pain wracking through her belly where her other hand rested protectively. She was breathing heavily as if trying to force the pain away with her exhalation.

“Good lucky, my dears. We will come to find you when it’s safe,” Mrs. Weasley said in parting, her eyes both sad and hopeful.

Hermione seemed to recover after the older woman had left. He knelt down beside her, cradling her face in his hands. Draco could almost hear her mind racing. Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he followed up by asking, “How do we get to Hogsmeade without being seen?”

A smile graced her lips. “This is where knowing Fred and George really makes a difference.”

Hermione led him through the corridors towards Gryffindor tower, stopping once as another growth spurt wracked her body. Once they reached the third floor, they stopped in front of an ugly statue of a one-eyed, hunch-backed witch. Draco grimaced, but Hermione ignored him as she tapped the statue with her wand and said, “Dissendium.”

Crawling through yet another passage that day, Draco would have normally complained, but he was more worried about Hermione’s state of being than anything else. His eyes lit up as they finally came up through a trapdoor to one of his favorite places ever: Honeydukes. Though there was dust covering everything, the candies were wrapped and his mouth started to water.

Draco hadn’t had candy since being captive at the manor. “Come on, Draco,” Hermione called as he lunged for some marshmallow-filled chocolates.

“I’m just gonna take--” He stopped moving and talking when he saw her expression. She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at him, her foot tapping on the dusty floorboards.

He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth with some difficulty. “Is this what you’ll be like as a mother?” Draco asked gently, the fierce gaze now directed at him, but he could see their child cowering at his brilliant mother’s withering stare.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be cheeky with me, Draco.” Oddly, it kind of turned him on, her bossiness. Suddenly, he was thinking about a sweet treat he’d much rather have, though inappropriate at this time and place.

“Hermione, would you like a treat?” he asked, wolfishly. She sized him up, distrusting the smirk on his face. “What’s your favorite?”

Hermione glanced around the darkened room, following his gesture. She deliberated for a second and conceded, “I rather like Fizzing Whizbees, though I couldn’t have it now.”

“Oh come on, my sweet! Let’s take one as a treat for after the baby is born,” he said, trying to be charming, which seemed like it was working. Hermione nodded, a smile tugging at her lips.

He grabbed one for her and the chocolates he’d been eyeing before. She took his hand as they walked out of Honeydukes and to the Hog’s Head. There was no one around, though they could hear some faraway happenings near the castle.

“Draco!” a male voice called from behind them. He froze. That was unmistakable, cold voice of Lucius Malfoy.

He turned around to face his father, drawing himself in front of Hermione. Draco held his wand defensively in front of him. His father did not look well, not like the immaculate Malfoy he’d always known him to be. He hadn’t shaved, his clothes weren’t pressed, and he’d foregone the walking stick part of his cane.

“You’ll always be a coward, son. You couldn’t fulfill the Dark Lord’s wishes on all the chances he gave you to prove yourself. You’ve fallen for this mudblood whore, then? How disgusting,” his father sneered at him.

Draco’s temper flared. “You’re the coward, father. You’re the one who brought that insane wizard into our lives. You did this to us, to me. All I can do is take care of my family now. If you get in the way of that, I won’t back down.” He could feel pride, love, and worry humming through his bond with Hermione.

His father raised his wand and Draco raised his, prepared to duel. He didn’t want to kill his father, no matter how much he hated him. Draco saw his father’s lips forming a word, but they were interrupted.

“Lucius, you will not harm our son. You’ve put him through enough. He may forgive you in time, but I will never forgive you if you hurt him. Let him go,” his mother said, stepping between them. Draco didn’t know when she’d gotten there, but he’d been so focused on his father and protecting Hermione that he hadn’t noticed.

His father scowled but lowered his wand. Draco wanted to hug his mother. She gave him a short look that gave her love yet acknowledged that he must leave. Hermione rubbed circles into his palm as they turned to enter the Hog’s Head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we've reached one of the last chapters! Thanks to all who have stuck around to read this far. I won't put a limit on the remaining chapters yet, but there will only be a few more. I update every other weekend (this one was a little early).
> 
> I'd love to hear any comments you have!


	16. The Safehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione reach Shell Cottage and have the chance to enjoy some much-needed *lemon*ade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wanted to note that before Narcissa had intercepted Lucius, she had already betrayed Voldemort by telling him that Harry was dead. It’s a minor plot point in this story, but a big one in the canon. I wanted to put the time in perspective since we’re not seeing that part through Hermione and Draco’s eyes.

Hermione grabbed a handful of floo powder when Draco gasped and seized his arm. She looked down and saw the Dark Mark twisting upon his skin, the skull’s face lifting into a macabre grin.

“What is it, Draco?”

He shook his head and quickly grabbed the floo powder from her and said, “Shell Cottage.”

They held each other upright as they landed at their destination. The cottage was filled with light, like a beacon in the dark, war-torn world they knew. Draco lurched them forward onto the cream-colored sofa with vertical blue stripes.

Hermione leaned back into the plush cushions before Draco spoke, “Potter… He’s dead, that’s what that meant.”

He was ghastly pale, the dark circles hollowing his eyes out. Hermione wouldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t cry. Voldemort could be lying.

She only cried out as her muscles spasmed in her abdomen. Breathing through the pain and discomfort, she leaned back into the cushions. Hermione could tell that Draco was trying to stay positive for her, through their bond.

Even in the sunlit room, darkness and doom had followed them like a raincloud. She rubbed her belly that seemed to be growing at an alarming pace, trying to think about his or her life, hoping it would be a time of peace. Draco planted a kiss over the bulge that was now sticking out from under her sweatshirt.

“Let’s get you on bedrest, Mrs. Weasley’s orders,” he said in a faux-cheery voice with a grin that wasn’t full.

Before she could argue, Draco was carrying her up the stairs. The steps protested his climbing, squeaking and groaning during the minute it took him to reach the second floor. There was a small room on the right with a large window overlooking the beach and a queen-sized bed laden with quilts and soft, well-worn cotton sheets.

Hermione smiled at the simple beauty of the bedroom. It was so much more welcoming than any of her "rooms" at the manor. And yet, despite the uncertainty of her time alone with Draco at the manor, she wished everything could be quieter.

Sure, she'd worried about her friends while she was there, but she had no choice. Hermione supposed that she had no choice now that her pregnancy had advanced so quickly. She was no good to anyone but the baby now.

The pressure on her back lessened in her reclined position and she felt much better in general, she had to admit. Draco still looked harried, but she could feel his heart rate return to normal and his stress lessen through their bond. He squeezed her hand before turning and muttering that he'd get her some food and water.

Hermione heard the groan of the first stair when a feminine voice rang out from downstairs. She froze and knew Draco hadn't moved an inch.

"'Ermione? Are you 'ere?" A familiar accented voice inquired.

"Fleur? Is that you?" she answered instinctively.

"Oui! Molly zent me to ‘elp you."

Relief washed over her. She had gotten to know the Beauxbatons beauty over the summer at the Burrow last year before she married Bill. Fleur possessed a wealth of knowledge on all things magical, especially when it came to the female side of things.

"'Ello, Draco, yes?" the blonde witch said to him on the stairs.

"Oui, madame. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer," Draco responded, ever the gentleman.

"Très magnifique!" Fleur exclaimed. "You ‘ave been taking good care of our lioness, no?"

Hermione could feel Draco's pride as he affirmed her statement. Fleur greeted her with a flutter and a few waves of her wand for diagnostics. It took a few minutes of polite chatter for Hermione to remember that Fleur might know what was happening with the battle.

"Fleur, did Molly happen to say anything when she called you?"

Fleur furrowed her brow. "She zent ‘er patronus and assured me zat it would be safe to come ‘ere from France. Pourquoi?”

Hermione met Draco’s quicksilver eyes. Fleur’s words stirred hope in her, but she knew that Mrs. Weasley couldn’t have divulged everything to her daughter-in-law through a patronus.

“We were hoping for an update, that’s all,” Draco supplied.

Fleur nodded, her blonde ringlets bouncing on her shoulders. “I wish zat I could tell you more, but Molly did zeem hopeful in ‘er message.”

Hermione watched silently as Fleur cast a few more diagnostic spells on her. Draco sat beside the bed in a chair holding her hand.

“Fini, my darlings. ‘Ermione, it looks like you are in your second trimester now because ze bond and stress iz, ‘ow you say… ‘speeding’ up ze growth of ze bébé.”

Hermione and Draco nodded simultaneously. “Both you and ze bébé are ‘ealthy, ‘ermione. ‘Owever, it iz better to slow ze growth down.”

“How?” Hermione gasped, hoping Fleur had an answer. The French witch smiled demurely.

“‘Ze same way you began, mes chéris!”

Draco stuttered, “You-you mean if we… you know…”

Fleur nodded. “You must stabilize ze bond. I believe part of zis problème iz that your bond felt threatened. War will do zat. Plus, ‘ermione’s ‘ormones will be increasing.”

“How do you know all this, Fleur?” Hermione asked, her curiosity overpowering her embarrassment.

The blonde witch waved her hand noncommittally. “Zis sort of zing ‘appens more often in France, I zink. I am studying to be a ‘ealer, too.”

“That’s wonderful, Fleur. We are so grateful for your assistance,” Hermione said brightly.

“It iz nothing, ma chérie. I will let you rest now,” she said. “If you need anyzing, call for me. Oh, and Draco, faire taire la pièce.” Fleur left with a wink and a flourish of her wand closing the door behind her.

Hermione caught Draco’s blush and felt a surge of jealousy. “What did she say?” Her words came out a little harsher than she meant them.

“She was reminding me to silence the room if we were to… erm… stabilize the bond,” he said with the most uncertainty than she’d ever heard him express when it came to sex.

This reminded Hermione of her state as if she forgot she was steadily growing more heavily pregnant by the hour.

“Right, well, you heard her, I should rest,” Hermione huffed. “Who would want to have sex with a beached whale anyway?” she muttered under her breath as she turned away from him.

“That’s not why I'm hesitating, Hermione,” Draco said vehemently, his hand coming to rest on her arm. “I’m nervous that I’ll hurt you or the baby.” He cleared his throat. “If you must know, I’m more attracted to you than ever… You’re carrying our child, for Merlin’s sake! Your breasts have been spilling out of your bra for the last day and all I’ve wanted to do is suckle them.”

Then, he was on the bed spooning her from behind and she could feel his prominently hardened desire digging into the lower curve of her spine. Hermione felt a surge of liquid covering her thighs. At first, she thought she’d wet herself, but she realized it was her arousal. She pushed back against him and heard him groan and shift against her.

“ _Silencio… Evanesco_ ,” she heard Draco murmur in her ear. Hermione felt cold and warm at the same time, her nipples hardening instantly against the chill in the air.

One of his hands cupped her heavy breast and lightly traced her nipple. She whined as his hand moved down over her baby bump and between her legs. It was almost unbearable when he loosely rested his hand over her sex.

“Draco, please! I know you won’t hurt me or the baby…” she begged.

He smirked and kissed just below her ear. “You’re so wet for me, love. Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she breathed as he started stroking her labia, the moisture there allowing him to slide easily over her and almost to her aching clitoris. He didn’t touch that bundle of nerves, but he did slide a long finger slowly inside her. Hermione sighed and tried to fuck his finger with her hips.

“Do you know how much I want you, Hermione?” His long, hard cock twitched against her arse cheeks.

“Draco, please!” she begged again, seeking friction from his hand that she couldn’t find without his cooperation.

“Do you want me to show you how much I want you? How much I need and crave you? How happy I am that you’re carrying our child? How sexy pregnancy makes you?” He said huskily in her ear.

Hermione was beyond desperate now. “Yes, Draco, please! I need you so badly, please!” She was nearly crying in the need for release.

His hand that had been teasing her, lifted her top leg back over his hip. She moaned as she felt the head of his large cock run through her sopping folds. Gently, he rocked the large head into her opening, nudging its way inside her. Hermione knew she was wet enough from his to slide in easily, but he allowed her to adjust to his size.

Her hips started rocking backward. Hermione smiled as he moaned into her ear. She clenched around his big intrusion when he licked her earlobe. His hand held onto her leg, keeping it hitched over him.

“Harder… Draco… I need…” His other hand snuck down to where they were joined, his cock making an obscene sound as it slithered in and out of her wet pussy.

His finger merely brushed her clit and she was seeing stars behind her eyelids. He pumped steadily into her through her crests of pleasure.

“You needed to come on my cock, didn’t you?” he panted into her ear. Hermione whined, another wave of pleasure building with his thrusts and dirty words. She felt the bond thrumming in her chest like another heartbeat next to her own. “Can you come again for me, Hermione?”

His fingers danced over her clit in conjunction with the shallow, deep exploration of his cock that had her screaming her next release. Her toes curled and magic swirled around them. Draco called out her name as she took him over his edge as he filled her up with his cream.

He set her leg back down but didn’t pull out yet. His palm ran over the swell of her belly where their child rested. Hermione felt the aftershocks of her orgasm flutter around his softening member. A sense of wholeness had washed over her since they’d reconsummated their bond.

“You’re both perfect, I love you so much,” Draco whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don’t speak any French, so please blame Google Translate and my own lack of sophistication. Also, I’m not sure if the French accent is readable… Let me know!
> 
> Draco said to Fleur, “C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer,” which means, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
> 
> Fleur said to Draco, “Faire taire la pièce,” which means “Silence the room.”


	17. Re-Bonding

Subconsciously, Hermione knew how horny she was. Her dreams were almost all wet dreams with an occasional nightmare from her torture thrown in to shake things up. Nevertheless, her heart was beating rapidly from her brain’s overactivity and the flood of hormones into her system. She didn’t actually feel sexually sated from her dreams, but she wanted to keep sleeping.

Hermione’s current dream felt the most realistic. Draco had pressed kisses over her distended tummy before making his way between her thighs. She couldn’t see most of his silver-blonde hair except for some of the bits sticking up from sleep. When he nipped lightly at the juncture of her thighs, she whined and buried her hands into his soft mane.

She heard him moan at the roughness that she was yanking his hair. Didn’t he know where she needed him? Hermione was aching for any contact with her needy quim. She was in too much of a horny state for extended foreplay. Her release was just out of her reach.

“Please,” she begged.

“Alright, princess, because you sound so sweet when you beg.” Hermione could have screamed when he finally gave her clit a very light lick. She felt her pussy clench around nothing, but felt herself becoming wetter.

“Draco!” Her eyes rolled back and her body arched as he shoved two fingers inside her.

After pumping a few times, his fingers reached that spongy part of her that made her fall apart. Simultaneously, his lips latched onto her clit, sucking it into his mouth. Hermione saw a sparks of white behind her eyelids as one of the most powerful orgasms gripped her in its pleasurable fist. Her toes curled, her hands tugging at his hair.

She was barely aware of his fingers coaxing her through the orgasm, but he left her clit alone and respected her sensitivity. Hermione opened her eyes, feeling fulfilled enough to wake up.

Draco’s metallic eyes were molten with hunger, hovering over her belly. She could see his face glistening in the sunlight filtering in from the window. He crawled up to lie beside her, his desire prominent against her hip.

“I thought… I thought that was a dream,” Hermione said breathlessly. Draco gave her a wicked grin.

“You were moaning and whining in your sleep, love. I had to give you what you needed,” he said in a husky tone.

She bit her lip as he licked her cum off his lips. “I’ve never seen you squirt before. It was so sexy,” Draco continued.

Hermione knew she must be as red as a tomato, but her blush didn’t prevent her arousal from spiking again. Their bond throbbed within her heart and she needed him once again. They’d been through so much and needed to heal together.

“Draco,” she said. “I want to ride you.”

“Fuck yes!” was all he said as he moved toward the middle of the bed.

Hermione felt a bit like a whale when she tried to raise to her knees. She wobbled for a second and was able to steady herself until it came time to move her leg over his body. His large hands gripped her waist that had thickened and now Hermione could feel the cool air on the arousal and cum dripping down her thighs.

Draco somehow lifted her so she was straddling him -- she’d put on almost fifteen pounds with the advancement of her pregnancy. His hand stroking her face brought her back to the moment. She looked between them at her engorged stomach that nearly hid his persistent erection beneath its bulge.

“Hermione, don’t overthink this. I know you may not be comfortable like this, it’s sudden, I know, but you’re unbelievably sexy to me,” he explained, his hands roving her curvaceous body.

A thrill of his words coursed through her body and she raised up enough for him to position his large cock at her sopping entrance. He slid in easily with her fluids aiding them. Hermione almost couldn’t move at the feeling of fullness. She spasmed around his hardness enveloped in her wet cunt.

She opened her eyes to see Draco concentrated on not losing himself within her so quickly. Her breathing was ragged as he gripped her hips and helped her move as he thrust himself at the same pace. Hermione lost herself to the rhythm and the pleasure of his cock pushing her to an orgasm.

“Fuck, Hermione,” he panted. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer. You’re so wet, so perfect…”

Her eyes fluttered close, but they opened in shock and awe when she found Draco at her breast. All he had to do was run his tongue over her nipple and she was gone. Hermione called out his name as she came around him, triggering his release and his growl of her name. His cum shot inside her and nearly tingled deep within her womb with their combined magic. It felt surreal, like it was part of their bond.

Draco helped her off him once they’d regained their breath. He spooned her from behind, his arms protective around her baby bump. Regardless of her size, she seemed to fit within his larger frame perfectly. Wandlessly, she summoned the blanket and brought it over them. Before she drifted off to sleep, Hermione thought that her wandless control seemed to be improving and made a mental note to ask Fleur about it.

***

Draco woke to the sound of Fleur’s voice and when he opened his eyes he saw a large, silvery butterfly floating above their bed.

“Bonjour, mes chéris! I am bringing breakfast oop in five minutes. Please be ready for an exam, s'il vous plaît!” the French witch said in a sing-songy voice.

Hermione stirred in his arms. She didn’t seem like she wanted to be woken up yet. He grabbed his borrowed wand on the bedside table and transfigured one of the sheets into a hospital gown of sorts. When he finally woke his groggy lover up, she was compliant in putting the transfigured sheet on.

She stood to use the loo and Draco blanched. What he’d transfigured looked like the nightgowns the Death Eaters had supplied Hermione with at the manor. He mentally cursed himself and hope Hermione didn’t make the connection before Fleur came in.

Hermione returned from the loo moments before Fleur knocked and walked in. The French witch was all a-flutter, performing spells and making light conversation as she worked. It seemed like the war hadn’t affected her much at all from her cheery attitude.  
“Très bien, ‘ermione et Draco! Looks like your bonding ‘as slowed down zee pregnancy. Your bébé will be here… Mon Dieu! A day or two before your birthday, ‘ermione,” Fleur beamed.

Draco looked at Hermione who had gone slack-jawed. “Really? Around September 19th?”

Fleur nodded happily. “Zat is, of course, unless your bond iz stressed again.”

He realized that he hadn’t known when Hermione’s birthday was… Did she know his? Most likely not. They weren’t even friends, really, before they’d resigned themselves to become lovers in an impossible situation. Draco felt like he barely knew Hermione now that he thought about it. He was bonded to her, though. Both by the magical and parental bonds they shared.

What if he couldn’t protect their bond forever? What if they fell apart in the middle of this war? What about her family? How would they feel about their situation? He already knew his parents’ feelings -- at least his mother seemed to come around to the idea of a half-blood grandchild. Would his mother approve of Hermione, though?

Draco’s mind was spinning while Fleur was chatting with Hermione until they heard the familiar voice of Mrs. Weasley and multiple sets of footsteps downstairs.

***

Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat when she heard Mrs. Weasley calling. Fleur also looked even more hopeful than she had been a second before. They beamed at one another until Fleur responded with, “We’re up ‘ere!”

More hope flooded into her system when she heard more voices below as the matriarch climbed the stairs. Mrs. Weasley looked exhausted, dirty, sad but relieved at the same time when she entered the bedroom.

“My dear! How are you feeling?” the motherly witch exclaimed as she approached.

Without thinking, Hermione got out of the bed to hug her. “I should be asking you that question! What’s happening?”

Mrs. Weasley broke into a smile that lent to a little sorrow around her eyes. “We won! Harry wasn’t dead and he faced the Dark Lord and won.”

Hermione wanted to jump up and down, but remembered the baby, so she sat back down on the edge of the bed. Fleur hugged her mother-in-law and then ran downstairs to greet the others who were arriving.

“Wow, I can’t wait to hear more about it from Harry and Ron--?” she said, hoping that both her best friends were alive.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. “It was just Fred, may he rest in peace. Tonks and Lupin, too, dear. I guess little Teddy will have a playmate around his age, though,” she gestured to Hermione’s bump.

“What will happen to Teddy now?” she asked, gazing down at her unborn child and cradling her belly.

“I s’pose we’ll see if Andromeda will raise her grandson,’ Mrs. Weasley sighed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco’s head swing up to look at the matriarch, wide-eyed. Mrs. Weasley fixed a kind smile onto him.

“Yes, Draco, dear. Little Teddy is your second cousin.” She felt Draco’s internal confusion through the bond and knew he was having a difficult time to all this. After all, his original side, the side his parents were on, had lost.

Hermione reached for his hand, but he didn’t respond in kind, his fingers limp in hers. She was glad Mrs. Weasley asked about her condition to break the tension. Hermione repeated what Fleur had been saying before the arrival of the Order members. The prognosis seemed to please the older witch and she bustled downstairs.

Before Hermione could speak to Draco, though, two blurs came through the doorway: one dark-haired and the other red-headed.

“‘Mione!!” they both cried as they surrounded her. Her best friends looked worse for wear, but they were high on adrenaline and talking a million miles a minute. All she could catch were the words: _Horcrux, Dumbledore, snake, Neville, Voldemort,_ and _wand_.

She could feel Draco pulling away from her both physically and emotionally. It pained her, but she put on a brave face for her friends.

“You look so much bigger than we saw you yesterday,” Ron observed bluntly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I am. It’s a side effect of sorts. Draco and I are bonded magically and the stress of the battle took a toll on it. That bond is connected to the baby and it grew faster than it was supposed to, but now we’re both fine,” she explained as best as she could.

Harry and Ron seemed puzzled yet relaxed when she mentioned her current state. “I’m just so happy you’re both here! That Voldemort is gone!” Hermione followed up, trying to lighten the mood.

“Mrs. Weasley is preparing a feast for all of us. Will you come down, ‘Mione?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. “Of course. Plus, I need to feed this little one,” she said pointing to her belly. The boys laughed, but she could tell they were uncomfortable and tired.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, finally acknowledging his presence. The Boy-Who-Lived turned to follow Ron out, but spun back around at the last second.

Hermione worried they would be an altercation until Harry extended his hand to Draco. “Thank you for protecting and taking care of Hermione when we couldn’t. I owe you,” Harry said.

She couldn’t stop the tears from coming after that. It took for her best friend, savior of the Wizarding World, to extend a peace offering, to make her cry. Hermione felt Draco’s surprise and relief through the bond as he shook Harry’s hand.

After her friends left, Hermione tugged on Draco’s hand for him to sit next to her on the bed. He complied robotically. She turned toward him, but he looked down into his lap as if in shame. Even kissing his temple didn’t rouse him from his thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” she ventured, even though she knew all of the possibilities from their situation.

His knuckles went white around the wand that he held in his lap. “I’m scared, Hermione,” he admitted.

She knew it took him a lot of effort to admit that. Yet, he knew she could feel it through their bond. “I know, my love. We’ll get through this, though. Together.” Hermione tried to sound as confident as possible. They’d been through so much already.

Footsteps, heavy and loud on the wooden stairs, approached. She hoped it was a few more of the Weasleys coming to check on her. Hermione’s mouth went dry when she saw who it was in the doorway.

“Draco Malfoy, you are under arrest for your connection with Death Eater activities and your status as a Death Eater,” Kingsley Shacklebolt said with his wand pointed at them.

Draco stood in front of her, his tall frame hindering her view. She saw his wand fly from his hand and his wrists being bound in front of him. As she was about to reach for her wand, a sharp pain ran through her abdomen. Shadows of the two aurors loomed over them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a few days early! My muse showed up suddenly today and I had to give you lemons as well as a wrench in the plot -- it just so happened to be a cliffhanger. Please let me know what you think in the comments! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. Power of Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait and the short chapter, but I wanted to update the story! I've been on vacation and didn't have a reliable computer to do much writing -- writing on my phone sucks.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, lovely readers!

Draco couldn’t struggle against the magical bonds and stood there, stunned. He closed his eyes for a second, hoping he was dreaming, but when he opened them, Kingsley and the other aurors were flown across the room in groaning heaps of robes. Draco blinked and looked at Hermione.

She looked like a goddess of wrath. Her curly hair was floating in tendrils around her head like Medusa, her magical power sparking like static electricity around her. Hermione’s wand was still on the nightstand.

“How did--”

He stopped mid-sentence as her head whipped toward him. Hermione’s eyes were glittering gold, more like molten, burning with power. His heart leapt in fear and passion, but he realized she’d non-verbally and wandlessly freed him from the auror’s bonds.

The aurors struggled to their feet and Draco snatched his wand from the floor. Kingsley reached his feet first and re-trained his wand on him. The older wizard had been faster in casting an offensive spell, yet it deflected off an invisible shield before it even reached Draco.

Hermione’s hand extended out towards Kingsley, her teeth bared. “Don’t come any closer,” she commanded. “I won’t let you take him from me.”

Draco felt at a complete loss, at this stalemate. He saw Kingsley’s dark brow furrow, his wand still outstretched. He held out a hand to stop the two other auror’s from moving.

“Hermione, dear. I know you must think this is unfair, but we have to bring him in for questioning.”

“No. He’s not yours to take,” she persisted. “Talk to Harry, he knows how Draco helped!”

Draco felt a drop of sweat slide down his temple. Kingsley took a step forward. He winced as the dark-skinned wizard flew back against the wall, his fingers grasping at his throat. Draco could see the whites of his eyes as they bulged and Kingsley struggled for air.

Hermione was completely concentrated on Kingsley that Draco saw too late that one of the other aurors had stepped out of line. His stomach lurched as the auror put Hermione in a full body-bind.

“Stop!” he screamed. Draco ran over to Hermione’s side as she struggled against the binding. His heart was pounding in his ears making it nearly impossible to think straight. He didn’t want her hurt or the baby. He didn’t want to be taken away either….

“Let her go and I’ll come with you willingly,” Draco said with more confidence than he felt.

When Kingsley released the spell, he saw Hermione pale, a sheen of sweat over her exposed skin. Her hands cradled her large bump, her brow wrinkled with the strife. He kneeled down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. With surprising strength, she clung to him.

“Don’t go!” she sobbed as the aurors dragged him away by the elbows.

He swallowed with difficulty and called, “I love you!” Draco felt a warm and heartfelt tug on their bond as Hermione disappeared from sight.

***

Hermione lie on the floor, body racking with the force of her sobs until Mrs. Weasley and Fleur came up to check on her. She felt utterly betrayed by the Order and the Ministry. They were treating Draco like prisoner of war, like a criminal.

His absence, taken by force, had left their bond frayed. She could only feel his fear and loneliness. Would they even give him a trial? Hermione felt hollow despite the bulging mass growing in her uterus. Even the baby couldn’t fill the emptiness that Draco left.

Mrs. Weasley was stroking her hair, singing a calming tune, when a spasm seized her abdomen. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she clenched at the pain. When it subsided, Hermione’s worry increased.

“Mrs. Weasley…” she gasped. “Can’t you tell them? I need him… for the bond… the baby.”

Hermione couldn’t see the motherly witch’s face while she was in the fetal position, but she could sense the tension in her momentary silence.

“Hush now, dearie. I’ll do what I can. Drink this calming draught and sleep a while.”

Hermione felt the bonelessness and fuzziness of the potion take effect almost immediately.

“Is it normal?” Hermione asked as she started to mentally float away from her body.

“What, love?”

“Wandless magic during pregnancy,” she murmured.

She heard Mrs. Weasley cluck. “Not usually as strong as your power, dear…”

***

Hermione felt groggy as she awoke to an awful pain in her stomach. In her unconscious state, she’d nearly forgotten about the pregnancy. She’d been dreaming about a potion’s exam that she thought she’d fail when the jolt had woken her.

Reality had come in a tidal wave. Her surging hormones weren’t helping anything as she couldn’t help but cry into her pillow. She reached out for Draco in their bond and she received a faint reassurance from him.

A foot prodding her bladder broke her concentration. She heaved her massive belly out of bed to use the loo. Hermione couldn’t help but worry about the fast advancing growth of the baby. Fleur had said that he or she could be born in as little as a week, especially if the bond wasn’t stabilized.

After she flushed, she sent a patronus to Mrs. Weasley. Accompanied by Fleur, the two witches had come quickly -- the matronly witch still had flour on her hands.

“Thank you for coming so quickly. I need one of you to go convince the Ministry to let Draco go, at least on house arrest. If they need me to testify, I’ll go.” Fleur opened her mouth to argue, but Hermione held a hand up. “I need him, for my sake as well as the baby’s.”

The plan they came up with was simple: Hermione would write a letter to Kingsley, the Acting Minister for Magic, and Mrs. Weasley would deliver it personally to him and insist on an immediate answer.

While her situation was an uncommon and delicate one, Hermione hope she could reach through to Kingsley’s sympathetic sensibilities. The war had created her relationship with Draco and their resulting baby, but she didn’t want them to be a casualty after the war. In the eyes of the Order-run Ministry, Draco was a Death Eater who had almost killed a few students in the pursuit of killing Dumbledore. She couldn’t absolve him of those horrible indiscretions, but she could convince them that the circumstances of the war had forced Draco to carry them out.

She hoped her words were powerful enough, like her magic, to save him. 


	19. Wizard Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter, but I had to get it out there before I ran out of time to write! I hope you enjoy the read and progression of the story.

Draco felt haggard, even more so than when he’d been cooped up in the manor with Voldemort as a house guest. His guiding light, the only person he trusted beyond his mother, was far away and suffering. The pregnancy growth pangs had started again as their bond struggled at the separation. They’d just gotten to repairing their bond, their intimacy, when the aurors had come in wands blazing.

Hermione, his dear Hermione, had tried to save him, inadvertently. She’d beaten back the wizards who were trying to take him away with wandless magic at a magnitude he’d never seen before. His witch was magnificent and yet he’d been worried for her all the same. He knew it wasn’t better for her in the long run that he’d willingly left with the aurors, but he didn’t want them to hurt her or the baby.

Draco would sacrifice himself for her and their child, that wasn’t an issue. It was their bond, though; it was strained and he could feel her extreme discomfort trickling through their frayed connection. He had to get back to her. If he didn’t, Hermione could be in danger.

His cell door in the Ministry opened -- he’d thanked them for not sending him to Azkaban -- and Kingsley Shacklebolt strode in. The Acting Minister took the bench opposite the bed Draco was half-lying on. The wizard’s eyes were sympathetic, at least.

“Draco Malfoy, information has come to light about your involvement in the war,” the Minister’s deep voice echoed around the cell. “Your trial will be expedited, which means you will sit before the Wizengamot tomorrow.”

All Draco could do was silently gawp at him. His mind was spinning. What information?

“You have the right to appoint a character witness to give testimonial. Would you like to elect one?”

Draco nearly got thought-whiplash from how suddenly his thoughts changed directions and halted on one particular thought. Deep in his chest, he knew he had to say it.

“Hermione Granger.”

She would help him. He would see her tomorrow. His heart lifted in hope, but he wished her well considering the stage of her pregnancy and the fragility of their bond.

Kingsley nodded at him, the heaviness around his eyes spoke of exhaustion. While Draco may have the Golden Girl on his side, he didn’t know who would be judging his trial. How did they assemble the Wizengamot so quickly after the destruction of the war? Would it be a fair trial? Did it matter to the winning side? He had been a Death Eater once and he was in their eyes.

He glanced at his forearm where the ugly tattoo marred his skin. It had started to blur like a watercolor of sorts after its creator had died. Perhaps, Draco thought, Hermione’s magic had sped up the process of its dissolution. The hope of seeing her tomorrow keep his heart beating in a steady rhythm, so steady that he drifted off on the thin prison cot.

***

Draco couldn’t stop shivering and sweating. The ministry officials had given him some robes to wear to the hearing, but they couldn’t seem to counteract the perpetual cold sweat. Still bound, he was lead to the chamber where he was sure countless Death Eaters would be brought to justice. He would be the first from the Second Wizarding War, it seemed. Draco wanted to puke at the thought.

The Order members, some of those he knew and some of those he didn’t, made up the Wizengamot. It was going to be a verifiable witch hunt -- or wizard hunt, Draco thought grimly. His only hope was….

“Hermione Granger, please stand before the Wizengamot as witness for Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

His head swiveled wildly, trying to see her, but when he couldn’t, he reached out through their bond. Their connection was fragile, barely there, like smoke that he couldn’t grasp no matter how hard he tried.

There was murmuring around the chamber. His gut twisted.

“Mr. Malfoy, given that your witness is not present, we will have no choice but to try you without one.”

Draco was going to be sick. He heaved, but really it was sobs wracking his body. Hermione, the love of his life, the mother of his unborn child, didn’t show up for him. She wasn’t coming to save him. There had to be a good reason. He felt their connection split completely and it broke his heart.

He didn’t hear what anyone from the Wizengamot said after that. It didn’t matter. Draco Malfoy deserved to die without love, without family. He’d made all the wrong choices and he couldn’t be redeemed.

His sentence was given in Kingsley’s weary voice: The dementor’s kiss would be administered at the end of the week. He wished they would do it today, but they wanted him to wallow in despair until any happiness he had left was virtually gone and that’s when the hooded, floating beast would suck any remnants out of him.

Draco would never see his child born. Did it matter? Hermione could easily persuade her friends, the Order, the Ministry, that it had all been Voldemort’s doing. Then, she’d marry the Weasel and raise his son without him. Without his despicable, Death Eater father.

Limply, the aurors dragged him out of the chamber as if he were a corpse. His eyes would barely stay open, swollen shut from crying. They passed a bench where a young witch was cooing to a swaddled baby. She had curly, brunette hair like Hermione. He opened his eyes wider and recognized her features. Hermione.

He fought against his guards and dug his heels into the polished marble floor. “Hermione!” he yelled. Why hadn’t she gone into the hearing? She’d had the baby already? His head was spinning. None of it made any sense! One of the aurors stunned him, but Draco tried to stay awake, blinking.

And then, his vision cleared.

“Draco, shhh, it’s okay,” a soft voice said. He blinked again.

“Hermione?” he croaked. Draco had been crying himself hoarse as he slept on the cell cot.

The witch he loved sat where Kingsley had hours ago, her belly still heavy with his child. He tried to reach out for her, but couldn’t due to the magical handcuffs. Hermione gave him a watery smile, absently stroking her protruding stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I utilized the it-was-all-just-a-dream trope, but I had this alternate vision for the way Draco's trial could go and couldn't resist! Let me know what you thought of this. I'm definitely leaning towards the HPE ending, so for those who liked the dark turn, I don't think I'll go there.


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